


Oh, tell me something I don't already know

by dunklenacht310



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ben Winston (just barely mentioned), Bottom Harry, Gay Sex, Light Angst, M/M, Singer Harry Styles, Song Lyrics, Top Zayn, Zayn Malik-centric, harry is kinda famous but just locally
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-13 13:43:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18032837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dunklenacht310/pseuds/dunklenacht310
Summary: If the universe wanted to f**k with him, it could be his guest.Zayn didn’t need any hearts or songs telling him who to love.In fact, Zayn didn’t need to love anyone at all, not until he bloody decided himself, and it certainly wasn’t gonna happen that night.-Zayn lives in a world where you can find your soulmate in two bizarre ways, and he is very annoyed at the universe deciding for him. Enter Harry Styles, YouTube singing sensation. He's got really good songs, really pretty eyes, and Zayn finds all of it a problem.





	1. Tell me something, just before you go

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know or own any of the characters present in this work.  
> All the songs quoted and mentioned in this fic belong to our one and only Harry Styles, of course.  
> The title is taken from 'Ever Since New York', again by Harry Styles, and same goes for the chapter titles.

 

 

 

Zayn had always been pretty open about how much he despised the whole soulmates business, but now that Louis had found his, he didn’t exactly know how to approach the subject without offending his best friend and his other-half-until-death-do-us-part-and-all-that-shit.

The thing was, out of the two ways in which your soulmate could manifest themselves to you, neither of them sounded particularly appealing, if Zayn had to be honest. Although, admittedly, it had been extremely funny to be there when it had happened to Louis.

His mother and father had both realized they were each other’s soulmate through Method Number One. Zayn rolled his eyes every time his sisters asked their parents to tell them once more about how they’d met, and the space around both of them had suddenly been filled with quite the literal hearts-in-the-air. Because yes, Method Number One was fucking embarrassing. You met your soulmate and paper hearts exploded around your head for the whole world to see.

Which had been the very reason Zayn had almost pissed himself laughing when he and Louis had been waiting for their orders in Starbucks, and a fairly ripped guy in sweats, tight t-shirt and a baseball cap had entered the café. He barely made eye contact with Louis, and the next moment a shitton of hearts were popping in the air around Louis’s head, while the rest of the customers cooed and ‘awww’ed at them, and Louis’s cheeks went a bright purple.

The guy had stared at Louis with a matching blush. “I take it you’re the person who can’t seem to finish any Lady GaGa song, yeah?” he had asked, and Zayn had only laughed harder while Louis managed to mutter an embarrassed “Sorry” to the guy and elbow Zayn in the ribs at the same time.

Method Number Two, which had indeed been how the guy, Liam, had succumbed to the soulmate business, was that if your soulmate started singing or playing a song and they didn’t finish it, it got stuck in your head until they managed to fucking finish it.

Zayn, to this day, still didn’t have an answer as to which was worse: having hearts explode around your head at a random time and probably in public, or having shitty songs stuck in your head for days, or even weeks at a time. Liam had apparently been very dismayed about Zayn interrupting Louis during a very poorly studied performance of _Bad Romance_ , because it had taken Louis two weeks before actually singing the song again and finishing it. “Imagine having _Ga-ga-ulla-la-ah, Roma-roma-ma-ah_ in your fucking head for two weeks, Zayn. Two fucking weeks. It was a nightmare”, Liam had told him over a pint some time later. Zayn wholeheartedly understood the feeling, since he had weird random shitty songs stuck in his head almost every other day, but he doubted it had anything to do with his soulmate, and more to do with Safaa’s horrible taste in music, because they shared a wall, and he was listening to Britney, Miley and Beyoncé against his will on a daily basis. That shit fucked with your head.

All in all, Liam Payne was a brilliant guy and Louis had put up little to no fight against the universe deciding his significant other for him. In less than a month they’d been officially dating, and Louis was disgustingly in love, which Zayn was happy about. And now, more than six months later, they were going steady, and Zayn hadn’t minded Louis moving out of their flat to move in with Liam, although that was probably in large part due to the fact that they’d only moved to the apartment above his own, which was why Louis didn’t like to talk about ‘moving out’ and preferred to use the expression ‘a change of rooms’.

Either way, Liam was great, and had proved himself to be an amazing boyfriend to Louis and a great friend to Zayn himself, so Zayn was very happy about them dating.

Hanging out with the two of them, Zayn had also discovered that the hearts in the air and the songs stuck in your head didn’t quite stop after you met your soulmate. Sometimes, when Louis was just very overwhelmed with his love for Liam, he’d send hearts shooting through the air without being able to control them. And Liam still got Louis’s unfinished shower songs stuck in his head, although not every single time like it happened before meeting him.

They said it wasn’t a big deal, and Zayn was inclined to believe them, because they looked very happy anyway. And Zayn had decided a lifetime ago that if Louis Tomlinson was happy, then so was he. Even if he still held onto his disgust for basically being ‘paired up’ against your will.

“It’s not against your will, Zed, not really” Liam told him in a sigh that night.

They were in their favourite pub, the three of them nursing their beers in the quiet of their usual booth in the corner.

Zayn scoffed. “Just ‘cause you hit jackpot doesn’t mean it works like that for everyone, Leeyum” he said “It’s great that you two fell in love at first sight or whatever, it really is, but it doesn’t just happen to everyone”

Louis frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean it’s bullshit” Zayn said, sighing “I was at work today and I met this girl. Did you know that the soulmate thing doesn’t always work both ways?”

Liam’s eyes shot open. “What?”

“Yeah” Zayn laughed bitterly “You can be someone’s soulmate, but they could not be yours. Or vice-versa. This girl found her soulmate. But she was not his. He was already married to his own soulmate, with a kid on the way, right in front of her when she ran into him. She was fucking wrecked because she’d been waiting her whole fucking life to finally meet her soulmate” Zayn told them, without looking either of them in the eyes “So you’ll excuse me if I decide to make nothing of it and live my life the way I want to, without letting songs or paper hearts dictate who I should be with”

Louis heaved a sigh and waited a careful minute before replying. “You do whatever you feel like doing, mate” he said at last “We understand your point. Hell, I even agreed with you until I met Liam. And we’re terribly sorry for that girl. We’re just saying that… maybe you’ll be lucky. Maybe your soulmate is out there, and you’re his in return. And maybe someday you’ll meet him and you’ll be happy”

Zayn felt the edge of something ugly stir in his stomach, and downed the rest of his beer in one gulp. “I’m already happy without the universe meddling in it, Lou” he said, and then stood up, making his way to the dance floor from where the fit blonde guy had been eyeing him since he’d sat down in the booth.

“I’m Chris” the guy told Zayn, his lips right next to his ear as their hips started swaying together.

Zayn was a horrible dancer, but he knew how to move his hips to make people decide suddenly they’d had enough of dancing and wanted to move on to doing something else.

“Zayn” he said, grinding down.

Christ matched his movements, his hands going around Zayn’s hips and almost engulfing them whole. Chris was tall and broad, and Zayn had always had a thing for big hands.

“You wanna go somewhere else?”

Zayn smirked to himself, and nodded. One good side of Louis moving out was the fact that now Zayn was alone in the house, meaning he could bring his one-night stands over, instead of going to some stranger’s place, which was always risky.

“I live close by” he said with his lips ghosting over Chris’s.

Chris nodded, stopped dancing altogether, and grabbed Zayn’s hand. “Let’s go now” he said.

Zayn chuckled. “Eager” he said “Come with me, I’ll tell my friends I’m leaving and then we can go”

Zayn pulled Chris through the throng of people, towards Louis and Liam’s table, and Chris easily followed him. His palm was a bit sweaty, but Zayn didn’t mind. If the night was going to go how he planned, there was going to be a lot more sweat than that involved.

So naturally, because things never went Zayn’s way, and the universe liked to massively fuck with Zayn, they never even made it to Louis and Liam.

They bumped into some guy, a man with dirty blonde hair and a nicely trimmed beard, and immediately there was an explosion of hearts around Chris’s and the guy’s heads.

“Oh, fucking hell” Zayn muttered, while Chris let go of his hand.

Chris was staring abashed at the guy, who was staring at him in return.

Zayn rolled his eyes. “Congrats” he said, feeling his stomach churn.

Chris looked at him for a second, and then dropped his gaze to the floor. “I… I guess… I guess I can’t come with you after all”

Zayn rolled his eyes again. “Whatever. Enjoy your blooming love” he said, waving his hand and stomping to Louis and Liam, who had seen the whole exchange, their attention caught by the heart explosions.

“I’m going home” Zayn told the two of them.

“Zayn? You okay?” Liam asked him, frowning “We saw…”

“Yeah. Peachy. My one-night stand just found the love of his fucking life” Zayn said with a sarcastic smile “And I’m too tired to pull again. I’ll see you tomorrow, babes”

Louis grabbed him by the arm. “We can come home with you”

“No, no, it’s fine. You still have your beers to finish” he gestured to the half-empty glasses in front of Liam and Louis “I’ll just head out”

He patted both of them on the shoulder and left before they could reply.

If the universe wanted to fuck with him, it could be his guest.

Zayn didn’t need any hearts or songs telling him who to love.

In fact, Zayn didn’t need to love anyone at all, not until he bloody decided himself, and it certainly wasn’t gonna happen that night.

 

*

 

Zayn was woken up by an earthquake the following morning.

One minute he was in bed, enjoying his dreamless sleep, and the next everything was shaking and trembling, a loud banging splitting his skull right in two, or even more, pieces.

He jolted up, trying his best to clear his sight and thoughts, until he was present enough to notice his bed wasn’t really shaking as he thought, and the banging came from his fucking door, accompanied by Louis Tomlinson screaming his name.

“Fuck” he muttered, standing up as quick as he could, which admittedly wasn’t very quick at all.

Louis kept knocking on the door with all his strength. “Zayn! Fucking wake up!”

Once Zayn finally reached the door and opened it, he was met with a sight of Louis and Liam, perfectly dressed and apparently not in the slightest bothered by the fact that it was the crack of bloody dawn.

“You still have the fucking key” Zayn said as they both strode inside his flat “Why don’t you ever use it?”

“I told him” Liam supplied helpfully.

Louis grinned. “It’s more fun this way. Besides, I never know if you’re gonna be alone in your bed lately, and I really don’t wanna stumble upon you getting your morning blowjob ever again. I’m still scarred for life by that one time”

Zayn, despite the sleepiness, grinned back. “You could have used the scene to learn something at least, mate”

“My better half here seems to be thoroughly satisfied anyway” Louis retorted.

Liam blushed furiously and scratched the back of his head. “Can we not talk about each other’s blowjobs, please?”

“First time I’m hearing this from you, my love” Louis stated.

Zayn rolled his eyes. “I need coffee” he muttered, yawning “And then I need you to tell me why you woke me up at arse o’ clock”

He didn’t wait for them, but felt them following him to the kitchen, where Liam just squeezed Zayn’s shoulder and let him sit while he got the coffee machine going. Liam was great, Zayn decided for the thousandth time.

“It’s eleven, mate. A perfectly reasonable time to be awake and productive” Louis said. Louis, in hindsight, was terrible, Zayn decided as well.

Louis barrelled on once Liam set a cup of coffee directly in Zayn’s open hands. “We gotta go get presents for Safaa, Zayn”

Shit. Safaa’s birthday. Right that day. His little sister turning seventeen.

“You forgot?” Liam asked in an outraged hiss.

“No?” Zayn replied “I mean. I didn’t forget my little sister’s fucking birthday, Liam, cheers. I just forgot we were going to get her presents this morning”

“Well, we are, you massive shithead” Louis stated “So drink your coffee and get dressed so we can go to the mall before your shift at work. I have an urge to spoil my favourite kid and it needs to be sated”

“Not a kid anymore, babe” Liam said.

Zayn and Louis glared at him. “She’s always gonna be a kid” they said together.

Well, maybe Louis wasn’t _totally_ terrible after all.

 

*

 

Considering how Zayn declared his hate for the soulmate business on a daily basis, it was only ironic that it was also the reason he had a job.

The thing was, it was all fine and dandy for people who worked with Method Number One, because like it or not, having paper hearts pop out of nowhere was an ace way to recognize your soulmate.

If you worked with Method Number Two, though, things were a bit less easy, because you couldn't just go around asking people what song they didn't finish to sing.

So, when people were seriously desperate to be found or find someone, Zayn’s office came into play. If you wanted to be found, and assuming your soulmate worked with the song method, you could decide on a song and stop singing in the middle of it on purpose, so that it got stuck in your soulmate’s brain. Then you went to the company Zayn worked at, and registered your name and chosen song. In return, the other person could go to the office as well and declare which song was stuck in their head and for how long it had been there. The operator – Zayn and Niall on afternoons, Sarah and Megan on mornings – would then run a search in the database, and find your match. Success rate: 99%. The office would then take care of informing the first person, and a date would be set up if both parties agreed to it. 

All in all, Zayn saw the whole ordeal as a more elaborate, more successful version of Tinder. 

“I have a theory” Niall said once the last client had gone away. He winked at Zayn from his booth, and stretched backwards on his chair.

Zayn rolled his eyes. “About what?”

“About you”

“Let’s hear the theory then”

Niall laughed. “I think you pretend to hate the soulmate business so that your default facial expression is a smoulder, and that’s how you get all the ladies” he declared “Just look at that poor bird who just left. She looked almost sad that you actually found her soulmate, and she was looking around your head as if she was praying hearts would start popping out”

Zayn arched an eyebrow. “There are two massive faults in your logic, Niall” he said, raising two fingers at him, which maybe was more of a dirty gesture than a representation of the number two.

“Which are?”

“One, I don’t smoulder. I just have a resting bitch face” Zayn said “And two, I am, and I quote you, ‘the gayest gay to ever gay’. So, I am in fact _not_ getting any lady”

Niall barked a laugh. “No, but seriously, Zed” he said when he calmed down “How can you be against the whole thing? You saw how many happy couples we matched. It’s, like, sweet”

“It’s _easy_ ” Zayn corrected “All those happy couples just decided they were gonna be happy with whomever is their soulmate ‘cause that means they don’t have to actually put effort into a relationship, ‘cause it was already made for them”

“I don’t think it works that way, to be honest. It’s like… Yeah, maybe it is easier to find someone this way. But whatever comes next, how the relationship works… you still gotta put an effort into it if you wanna make it work, I think”

Zayn shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe not. Guess I’ll never know”

Niall frowned. “It’s weird, though. Like… don’t you ever get songs stuck in your head? I mean I take it you’ve never had the paper hearts, but maybe you’re a song guy?”

Zayn snorted. “I get songs stuck in my head all the fucking time, Ni”

Niall gaped. “But then… I mean, why don’t you register in the system?”

“Because I don’t care” Zayn said patiently “And to be honest, I’m pretty sure I get songs stuck in my head just ‘cause of my sister listening to shitty music all the time. That, or my soulmate has the worst taste in music _ever_ , which would mean that soulmate or not, we’d never work” he grinned.

Niall opened his mouth to reply, although he didn’t exactly look like he knew how to counter Zayn’s statement. He didn’t have to, though, because in that moment his phone went off.

The blonde looked around (as if there were any other people than Zayn in the office) and then smiled at Zayn. “You mind if I take this, Zed? It’s my friend, he’s…”

Zayn just nodded and smiled back, because he was still working on denying stuff to Niall when he had The Smile.

“Haz” Niall sighed, answering the call “Jesus, why are you even freaking out? You’ve sung a shitton of times for more people than this” he paused, listening to his friend’s reply “Yeah, yeah. You’re gonna be great and I’m gonna be there cheerleading for ya. Now lemme get the fuck back to work before my colleague tells on me” he winked at Zayn, who rolled his eyes “No, what? No, Harry, I’m joking, he’s not gonna tell on me” Niall rolled his eyes as well “Yes, he is very kind to me, don’t get your knickers in a twist. Okay. See you later. Take a nap. Bye”

Niall ended the call and Zayn looked at him with both eyebrows raised. Niall laughed. “My roommate, well, my best friend, Harry. He’s got an obsession with people having to be kind to each other I guess”

Zayn snorted. “Well, still better than an obsession with paper hearts and songs”

“He actually landed this gig at this pub tonight” Niall said, flipping his phone up and down on his palm “Wanna join? We haven’t gone out in ages”

Zayn winced a little bit, because he really didn’t like to say no to Niall. “Sorry mate, it’s my little sis’s birthday today, she’s got a celebration going on tonight”

Niall nodded. “Gotcha. ‘S all good, maybe next time. Harry sings a lot, I’m sure there will be other chances”

 

*

 

“Why”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Zayn, you’ve been whining this word for twenty bloody minutes!” Doniya hissed, punching him in the arm as they got out of the car and made their way with Waliyha and Safaa to the place.

“That’s ‘cause none of you has given me a fucking answer yet” he muttered, spotting Liam and Louis already at the entrance of the club, jumping excitedly on the balls of their feet when they caught sight of them.

Safaa sighed. “We are going to this club because it’s the only club that allows seventeen-year-olds to go in, because it’s my birthday so I get to decide, and because they do live music _and_ karaoke all night” she patiently said.

Zayn sighed. “I hate karaoke”

Safaa giggled. “I know. Suck it up, big brother. It’s my birthday, I’m your motherfucking queen tonight”

“Language” Zayn rumbled half-heartedly. As if Safaa wasn’t The Queen every fucking day as well.

“How much has he complained already?” Louis asked as way of greeting when they finally joined him and Liam.

Zayn flipped him off while he and Liam hugged Saf and wished her a happy birthday.

Liam patted Zayn on the shoulder. “It’s gonna be fun?” he tried.

Zayn rolled his eyes. At that rate, he was probably gonna strain a muscle in his eyeballs. “You don’t even believe yourself”

Liam shrugged. “Saf’s happy. Lou’s happy. It’s a win-win situation”

“I hate you all” Zayn stated as they made their way inside. The bouncer asked all of them for IDs, and Safaa squealed in delight while showing hers off.

The bouncer chuckled. “Just barely, eh?” he said with a smirk, and Zayn felt all his big brother instincts kick in.

Saf giggled. “Yes!”

“You look older” the bouncer said.

Zayn grabbed Safaa’s shoulder and gently pushed her inside. “Well, she looks it but she ain’t” he stated, and the bouncer glared at him but then cleared his throat, allowing all of them to enter the club.

“Zayn!” Saf pouted “Why did you do that? He was fit!”

“Fit and _my_ age” Zayn replied “Besides, I didn’t see any hearts pop out of nowhere. Not your soulmate, so why bother?” he grinned.

Safaa rolled her eyes in a way that wasn’t dissimilar to Zayn’s. “Might have been the song thing”

“Over my dead body” Zayn declared, and Safaa punched him in the arm, but let it go once she caught sight of the small stage set right by the farthest wall of the club.

She squealed and ran to a group of people, probably her friends, because they all started cheering around her and wishing her happy birthday as she revelled in the attention.

“How can that giant ball of sunshine be related to you?” Louis sighed, watching Saf being Saf with a fond gaze.

Wali snorted. “Maybe Zayn’s adopted”

“Doubt it. Got the whole Malik cheekbones thing going on” Liam commented, grabbing Zayn’s face and squeezing it.

“Piss off, Leeyum” Zayn shoved at him, but laughed despite himself.

Saf ran back to them, huffing excitedly, her cheeks flushed. “Guess who’s gonna sing tonight? Take a wild fucking guess!” she screamed at Wali and Doni.

Doniya laughed. “I don’t know, my queen, who’s gonna sing?”

“Harry Styles!” Safaa answered dreamily, clapping her hands.

“Who?” Zayn frowned.

Saf rolled her eyes. “Oh my God, Zayn, do you live under a fucking _stone_?” she exclaimed “Harry Styles! He’s like, the shit!”

“Never heard of him”

“He’s some new YouTube legend, apparently” Louis told him “Saw a couple of his videos. Real fit, good voice. Classic YouTube hipster”

“He’s amazing” Waliyha pointed out “He started out doing covers, then got a good fanbase going on online, and started playing his original songs live”

“Can’t be that famous if he’s stuck playing in this shithole” Zayn commented.

Saf punched his arm. Zayn was gonna have bruises if his sisters kept manhandling him like that. “Shut up, Zee. He’s cool and he’s gonna sing tonight and apparently my friends told him it’s my birthday and he said he’s gonna dedicate me a song!” she said excitedly, and Zayn was a sucker for a happy Safaa, so he smiled and pulled her in a hug.

“Whatever floats your boat, my queen” he said, and she giggled, hugging him back.

Zayn really hoped she would never get too old to hug him and giggle in his chest that way.

“Zayn!” someone behind them shouted.

Zayn turned, and was immediately attacked by a wild Niall hugging him.

“Niall?” Zayn laughed.

Niall laughed harder. “Oh my God this is gold! Why are you here?”

Zayn pointed at Saf, who was excitedly talking to their sisters. “Little sis’s birthday. She chose this place for the celebration. Oh, Niall. These are Louis and Liam, my best friends. Lads, this is Niall, he’s my co-worker at the office”

“I prefer the word ‘friend’” Niall pouted, and Zayn laughed.

Louis and Liam shook hands with Niall, who wasn’t apparently gonna have any of that nonsense and pulled them in a bone-crushing hug. He turned back to Zayn when he released them. “It’s so cool, I’m like, my friend’s gonna sing here tonight. Sometimes the universe knows how to work, eh, Zed?”

Louis and Liam snorted a laugh, and Zayn rolled his eyes. “Your friend Harry is this infamous Harry Styles?”

Niall laughed and nodded. “Yeah, that’s right. He’s like over there I think…” Niall pointed at the door which led to the loo and the backstage rooms.

Zayn frowned when he saw a swish of curls and a flashy blouse. He barely had time to look at a pair of very green eyes before the door slammed shut, taking whoever was behind it out of sight.

Niall sighed. “Don’t mind him. He’s a weird motherfucker, he’s probably freaking out about singing here, he was called on like a short notice. I bet he’s gone to his dressing room to light some of his stinky scented candles and do his weird ass yoga routine”

“Sounds lovely” Zayn commented, sarcastically.

Niall shrugged. “Eh, he’s a bit weird but he’s a good egg. Always there when you need him”

“Join us for a drink while your friend does his yoga, Niall?” Liam asked with a smile, ever the social butterfly with the puppy eyes.

Niall laughed. “Sure thing, mate. Zayn told me loads about you two, I think we might just be good friends” he stated, and Louis patted him on the shoulder as they all made their way to the bar.

If Zayn was gonna survive a karaoke night, in which Safaa was probably going to force him to sing, he needed to be drunk. He briefly took another glance at the backstage door behind which Harry Styles and his green eyes had disappeared, and then shrugged. He could wait to see what all the fuss was about.

After having downed his first drink, Zayn decided he needed a piss, so he excused himself with the lads and walked to the loo.

When he opened the first door, he noticed some blue, yellow and red paper hearts crumpled on the floor, and sighed, arching an eyebrow. Some poor fucker had just met their soulmate while going to the loo, and those battered and stomped on pieces of paper was all it remained as evidence. It was still weird to Zayn that the hearts could be in different colours and shapes depending on personality; it seemed like the universe really liked to be a dick, to make Method Number One so obvious and detailed, while Method Number Two was the fucking most vague thing ever. But Zayn didn’t complain, because that vagueness was the reason he had a job.

Once he went to the loo and was done, he washed his hands and got out, moving towards the main room where he’d left the lads. Before he could open the door, though, a smooth voice singing caught his attention.

_The fridge light washes this room white_

_The moon dances over your good side_

Zayn frowned. The voice came from one of the back rooms, and he knew who it was, which was a reason good enough to _not_ follow it. Niall had said Harry Styles liked his alone time before performing, and Zayn didn’t really know him, so there was literally no reason for his feet to move in the direction from which the voice was coming. And yet Zayn was moving, Harry’s voice and the quiet strumming of a guitar beckoning him.

_Tongue-tied like you’ve never known_

_Telling those stories we already told_

_‘Cause we don’t say what we really mean_

The door was ajar, and a stripe of white light was spilling out.

Zayn heard something crash, and was so startled at the noise that he jolted, banging a foot in the door, which opened completely.

Harry Styles was very, very, _extremely_ fit, was Zayn’s first thought. Even in a ridiculously flowy shirt with flamingos printed all over it, buttoned just halfway so that his chest tattoos were on display. He was standing next to a table, legs squeezed in jeans so tight they looked like someone had fucking painted them on him, and was looking dismayed at some china which lay on the ground, shattered. “Ah, fuck me” Zayn heard him mutter.

 _Hold that thought, babe_ , Zayn thought to himself with a smirk, and cleared his throat. “Hi? Need some help?”

Harry turned to look at him, a swirl of chestnut curls bouncing around his face and reaching down till his shoulders, and those green, green eyes. He started, wringing his hands together and making the guitar strapped to his back hit his stomach. “Um. Hi. I turned and hit a vase with my guitar and it broke. I’m a klutz”

Zayn smiled fondly and then almost hit himself. _Smiled fondly? To a fucking stranger?_ “Hello, Klutz. I’m Zayn”

Harry laughed nervously. “Ehm, my name’s not really Klutz”

“Oh?” Zayn grinned.

Harry grinned back. “’S Harry. Harry Styles”

“I know” Zayn revealed like it was a big secret “My little sister might have mentioned you a couple of times tonight”

Harry widened his eyes and scratched the back of his head. “Oh. The… the birthday girl, yeah? I was about to text Niall ‘cause I wanted him to find out her name again ‘cause I forgot as soon as her friends told me but I promised I’d dedicate her a song” he rambled, cheeks pink.

Zayn wanted to bite them, he realized. He shook his head not to think about anything.

“It’s Safaa” Zayn said “Her name’s Safaa”

Harry nodded. “Cool. I’m gonna go on stage in ten minutes, but maybe… I’ll see you later? I guess you’ll be here for a while?”

Zayn smiled. “I can keep you company if you’re nervous. Ten minutes is a long time”

Harry sighed and smiled. “Yeah, but… I gotta finish the song”

“I’m sure you rehearsed enough” Zayn tried with his most convincing voice. He blamed how fit Harry was for the impending desire he was feeling to talk to him a bit longer.

Harry blinked and shook his head. “Yeah, but… I gotta finish. I always try to finish my songs. It’s just polite”

“Polite?”

“To my eventual soulmate, in case they are a songs person” Harry said like it was obvious “I don’t want them to get songs stuck in their head for days on end. So I always try to finish every song I start”

Zayn thought about the song he’d left unfinished. How was it? _Tongue-tied like we’ve never known, telling those stories we already told, ‘cause we don’t say what we really mean_. He was a bit surprised he perfectly remembered a song he’d never heard before, but Zayn had always had an excellent memory for music.

He nodded, sighing. “I guess you’re one of those hopeless romantics who love the soulmate business?”

Harry shrugged. “I dunno. Haven’t got a chance to experience it yet” he said, lips thin and pressed together. Zayn decided he hated that frown.

“Then I’ll leave you to finish your song” he said, and turned away.

“You could stay?” Harry asked, and Zayn looked back at him, finding absurdly big and green eyes staring at him.

He knew how to do this. He knew how to flirt, how to make them beg for it. “No can do, babe. Don’t wanna have any spoilers. I’ll listen to you when you’re on the stage”

Harry gaped a little bit, and Zayn grinned, waving at him and leaving him in his dressing room.

And if the song was actually catchy and Zayn was whistling it a little bit while going back to the lads, well, Harry didn’t have to know just yet.

 

*

 

“He’s there!” Safaa shouted perhaps twenty minutes after Zayn had made his way to the bar and the lads again. He had another drink in his hands, and smiled at how excited Safaa was. He also prayed that maybe Harry’s set would last long enough that the karaoke part of the night wouldn’t happen.

Harry was indeed there, flamingo shirt and tight jeans and curls and tattoos and green eyes. He climbed the three tiny steps of the stage holding his guitar, tripping on the last one but somehow managing not to fall.

Niall snorted. “Fucking klutz” he murmured “He’s gonna split his head open someday, I swear to God”

“Hello, ladies, gentlemen and whatever-you-feel-like-you’re-gendered lovely people” Harry greeted, his lips touching the mic in a way that made Zayn briefly wonder what they would feel around his dick.

“You’re drooling” Louis whispered to him.

Zayn looked at him, outraged. “Am not”

“You got the predator thing in your eyes, Zed” Liam added.

“Shut the fuck up” Zayn replied, and blatantly turned his back on them both to look at fit Harry being fit.

“The first song I’m gonna sing to you tonight is called _Two Ghosts_ ” Harry said with a smile “I’m told we have a lovely guest having her birthday party here tonight. So, beautiful Safaa, this is for you” he added and then immediately started singing while Safaa blushed desperately and gaped at Harry.

Zayn realized it was the song Harry was rehearsing in his dressing room earlier, and stared at him as he sung. He didn’t look nervous or self-conscious in the slightest, unlike how he’d behaved when he’d talked to Zayn. Zayn thought maybe he was one of those people who freaked out before a test, but then aced it once they started.

Harry, turned out, was a really good singer. Zayn didn’t find it hard to join the cheering every time he finished a song, didn’t find it hard at all to whistle with Niall and clap, and Harry noticed, because every time they screamed a bit louder than the rest of the audience, he glanced sideways at Zayn and smirked in his mic, his cheeks flushed in a way that made Zayn wonder how he would look on his bed, aroused and kiss-swollen. Zayn definitely wanted to find out.

“Next song is also the last one for tonight” Harry announced at the end, smiling at how the audience muttered their disappointment “It’s called _Ever Since New York_ , and it’s also a personal favourite of mine. They say parents shouldn’t have a favourite child, but I guess I do have one, sorry about that”

Zayn chuckled at Harry’s tiny ramble, but concentrated on the song nevertheless.

_Tell me something, tell me something_

_You don't know nothing, just pretend you do_

_I need something, tell me something new_

Zayn wondered why most of Harry’s songs always had that lying sad undertone, when he seemed to just be one of the most cheerful people he’d ever crossed paths with. Harry always sung with his eyes closed, his nose scrunched up when he hit the high notes, guitar clutched to his chest in almost a protective way.

_Choose your words 'cause there's no antidote_

_For this curse_

_Oh, what's it waiting for?_

_Must this hurt you just before you go?_

Zayn’s eyes travelled for the umpteenth time to Harry’s long fingers stroking the chords. He noticed a small cross tattoo by his thumb. Zayn wanted to lick it.

_Oh, tell me something I don't already know_

_Oh, tell me something I don't already know_

It looked and felt like Harry was pouring every fucking thing he had in that last song. It hit something in Zayn’s chest, disrupting the rhythm of his heartbeat as Harry swayed with his own music, his feet moving to the beat.

Zayn looked at what happened next like the whole world had been spun on its axis, rotating backwards, making everything go by in slow motion.

Harry’s foot got tangled in the cable of his guitar, and Harry didn’t notice. Nobody noticed, to be honest, until Harry took a step backwards and tripped.

He fell, hitting his head on the stage. Hard.

The commotion started when he didn’t get back up.

 

*

 

Zayn flung himself on the bed, on his stomach, shaking his head into the pillow to try and get rid of the grim feeling sitting on his chest.

When Harry had fallen down hitting his head and hadn’t stood back up, Niall had been the first to scream and run for him on the small stage. Zayn had been frozen, and it had taken him a couple moments before regaining his wits enough to run next to Niall and shout at him not to move Harry, because that’s what you’re supposed to do when people hit their head, you don’t move them until help comes.

Louis had called an ambulance, and in the ten minutes it took for it to arrive, Zayn had only stared at Harry’s unconscious face, suddenly scared that those green eyes would never open again, never smirk in that sexy way again, never eye Zayn with that mixture of awkwardness and lust again.

 _Oh, tell me something I don’t already know_ screamed in the back of Zayn’s head the whole time, and Zayn thought Harry had to wake up, because he wanted to hear how the song ended. It had been a gorgeous song, hadn’t it?

When the paramedics had arrived, they’d carefully taken Harry’s limp body and they’d brought him away, Niall going in the ambulance with them of course. Safaa, being the caring and lovely soul that she was, hadn’t felt like keeping on with her karaoke plans after the accident, so they’d decided to call it a night.

Zayn felt guilty for having hoped Harry would disrupt Safaa’s karaoke, because he hadn’t meant it _that_ way.

 _Oh, tell me something I don’t already know_ , Zayn thought for the maybe hundredth time in the last two hours. He felt something stir unpleasantly in his chest.

It didn’t mean anything, he told himself burying his face in his pillow just a little bit harder to muffle Harry’s voice in the back of his skull. It had been a good song, and that was all.

Zayn’s phone buzzed on his nightstand where he’d left it before throwing himself into bed. He unplugged it from its cable to bring it closer and read the text. It was Niall.

_Harry’s in a coma. They don’t know when and if he’s gonna wake up. Zed, can you cover for me at work tomorrow, please? I don’t wanna leave him here by himself yet._

Zayn’s throat constricted as he typed his reply as quick as he could. _Of course, Ni. Don’t worry about it. Keep me updated, yeah?_

_Yeah. Cheers, Zed._

Zayn plugged his phone back and leaned on his pillows with a sigh.

He had felt hot and bothered the whole evening, and rationally, he knew that what he needed was a good old wank, since he hadn’t gotten any kind of release in weeks, maybe a month even. Was he an awful person if it took just the briefest conjured image of Harry’s green eyes to make him half hard already? He felt ashamed of himself, because he barely knew the guy and he was in a fucking coma, but he shoved his hand down his briefs anyway, gripping himself tightly, and tugging.

His thoughts seemed to take their own curse no matter how hard Zayn tried to redirect them into safer territory.

He gripped himself tighter around the base as his brain was flooded with the image of Harry, in his tight jeans and ridiculous shirt, closing his eyes and baring the pale line of his long neck for the whole world to look at.

He thought about his long fingers, wondering how they’d feel if they wrapped around his dick right where his own fingers were now. He got impossibly harder at the mere thought of Harry’s pink, pink lips in the proximity of his cock.

It was like tumbling down a hill after that image came to his mind. He thought of Harry, naked, just for him, with his green, green eyes looking at him while he dragged his nails up and down his thighs, before he sunk down on him, taking him in his mouth to the hilt. Would he gag? Did he swallow?

His orgasm caught him by surprise, no warning, just a tightening in the pit of his stomach before he came all over his own hand. He barely had the time to catch his breath before the words screamed behind his fucking eyelids again.

_Tell me something, tell me something_

_You don't know nothing, just pretend you do_

_I need something, tell me something new_

Zayn let out a frustrated grunt and dug his face into the pillow yet again.

It didn’t mean anything.

He just really liked that song. He wished Harry could have finished it.


	2. You don't know nothing, just pretend you do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. “Three weeks. Three bloody weeks. I’m so sorry, Zayn”  
> Niall patted Harry’s shoulder. “You were in a fucking coma, Haz. I’m sure Zayn doesn’t blame you”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usual disclaimer: I don't own or know any of the characters. All the song titles and all the quoted song lyrics belong to Harry Styles.

 

 

 

Zayn woke up with a headache and slightly hungover, and to his utter dismay, the first thing he heard was in his fucking head.

_Oh, tell me something I don’t already know_

“You gotta be shitting me” he muttered, scratching his eyes.

_Oh, tell me something I don’t already know_

“Fucking hell” he said, louder, and stood up. He didn’t know if his headache was because of the hangover, or because of Harry fucking Styles who kept singing in his head.

He retrieved his phone from the nightstand, and texted Niall when he saw he hadn’t texted him yet. _Hey, mate. Any news?_

Niall’s reply was as short as it was bad. _Nothing._

_Okay. Lemme know which hospital? I can come and keep you company after work for a while._

Niall answered in the affirmative, linking his position to Zayn, and Zayn nodded to himself as he slowly padded to the bathroom to wash his face. He then treaded downstairs to the kitchen.

_Tell me something, tell me something_

“Ah, go fuck yourself!” Zayn exclaimed to the empty corridor, and then almost had a heart attack when he finally reached the kitchen and found Louis and Liam already there.

“Well ain’t you a right ray of sunshine in the morning” Louis commented, arching an eyebrow.

“Shut up” Zayn muttered “Coffee?”

Liam smiled at him and handed him a steaming mug, which Zayn gladly took. He blew a little on the coffee and took a sip. It stung down his throat, but Zayn welcomed the burn, because maybe it would distract him from the fucking song.

“You okay?” Louis asked, frowning a little at him.

Zayn nodded. “Yeah. Just hungover”

“You didn’t drink that much”

Zayn shrugged. “It is what it is” he stated, taking another sip “What are you doing here? Did I forget something again?”

Liam shook his head. “No. We just wanted to make sure you were alright. You seemed pretty out of it last night, after the whole… accident thing”

Zayn nodded. “I’m good”

“Niall say anything about how Harry’s doing?” Louis asked.

“He’s… he’s in a coma. They don’t know when and if he’s gonna wake up” Zayn told neither of them in particular. He felt his throat constrict, and stared at his coffee.

“Fuck” Liam murmured “How’s Niall holding up?”

Zayn shrugged. “He’s devastated I bet. It’s like, I dunno, they’re more like brothers than roommates, to be honest”

Louis winced. “We can go keep him company if he’s at the hospital?”

Zayn nodded. “Yeah. I told him I was gonna drop by after work”

None of them said anything more after that. They drank their coffees in silence, and when they were done, Zayn took the three mugs and proceeded to wash them, just to have something to do other than think about green eyes in a coma.

_Choose your words ‘cause there’s no antidote_

_For this curse_

_Oh, what’s it waiting for?_

Zayn didn’t even try to fight the song in his head that time. It was there, fucking stuck, and it didn’t mean anything, but it wouldn’t go away nonetheless. When he was done washing and drying the mugs, he turned to look at Liam and Louis, who were strangely quiet.

They were both staring at him with wide eyes and gaping mouths.

“What?” he asked.

“Zayn?” Louis said in a careful tone “You… you were singing?”

“Was I?” Zayn asked, biting down on his bottom lip.

Liam nodded. “You were”

Zayn shrugged. “I sing a lot. Except when Safaa forces me to do karaoke” he attempted a grin, which felt broken and fake on his own face.

“You were singing Harry’s song. His last one” Louis pointed out.

“And so bloody what, Lou?” Zayn snapped.

Louis flinched, and so did Liam, which made Zayn feel even worse. “Sorry” Zayn murmured.

“Zayn…” Liam said in almost a whisper.

“It doesn’t mean anything” Zayn said curtly “It doesn’t mean a fucking thing”

“It does, though” Louis countered “You’ve got his unfinished song stuck in your head”

“So what? I get a lot of songs stuck in my head for hours” he replied.

“Maybe it’s ‘cause of Harry?”

Zayn shook his head. “No. He explicitly told me that he always finishes his songs ‘cause it’s just _polite_ towards his eventual soulmate”

“Wait, when did you even talk to him?”

“Last night, before the concert. I went to the loo and his dressing room door was ajar and he broke a fucking vase ‘cause he’s a klutz and that’s exactly the reason he’s in a coma right now”

“Did you… did you ask him if…” Liam tried, but he didn’t look like he knew how to pose the question.

Zayn snorted. “What, did I ask him if he _felt something_? I’ll tell you what _I_ felt, Liam. I felt like I wanted to fuck the shit out of him, and _that’s it_. There were no hearts in the air for either of us, and yes, I have his song stuck in my head, but it’s just ‘cause it’s a really good fucking song, and _that’s it_ ”

Liam raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, Zed. Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad”

Louis grunted. “Don’t say sorry, he doesn’t deserve it. He’s acting like a bloody lunatic ‘cause he doesn’t wanna admit he just found his soulmate, and _that’s it_ ” he said, staring at Zayn with his eyes in slits, like he was daring him to deny it once more.

Zayn didn’t. He just sighed and turned to go back to his room. “I gotta go to work in a few. I get out at six, and if you can shut up about this whole fucking soulmate business for a fucking second, we can go keep Niall company, ‘cause he bloody needs it” he declared, and slammed his bedroom door shut.

 

*

 

Working alone, or better, working without Niall, had bored Zayn out of his fucking mind, so he heaved a relieved sigh once he was done and closed the office for the day. He inhaled the already chill September air as he rummaged through his pockets for his cigarettes and lighter.

Louis and Liam were waiting for him outside his office’s building, and despite the row he’d had with Louis that morning, he smiled at the two of them.

Louis smiled back. “Niall text you the hospital?” he asked.

Zayn nodded. “I got the address in my phone, my car’s over there” he pointed at it.

Louis nodded, and handed him a packet of Skittles.

Zayn loved Louis, and the thing he loved most about him was that he was the same as Zayn, in the sense that neither of them was very fond of saying sorry. Whatever they lacked in communication, though, they compensated with gestures. Which was why Zayn had bought a packet of Skittles as well, for Louis, and he retrieved it from the glove compartment of his car once they got in.

Louis accepted it with a chuckle, and Liam shook his head. “You always act like two angsty teenagers when you fight” he commented.

“Shut up, babe” Louis said, and kissed his temple.

Zayn chuckled, and started driving.

 _Oh, tell me something I don’t already know_ , his brain sung in Harry’s voice.

“Shut the fuck up” Zayn muttered, and if Louis and Liam heard him, they didn’t mention it.

 

*

 

Zayn was feeling even worse when he finally got home, after having been such a long time in the hospital, by Harry’s bedside.

Harry didn’t look like the Harry he’d met the night before, not when he was unconscious in that bed. His skin was abnormally pale, and his beautiful curls had been tied in a bun by Niall, “so that it doesn’t tangle too much until he wakes up, he hates when it tangles”, he’d said. Zayn had felt an immense pity for Niall, for how he’d stressed the _until he wakes up_ part, because in reality, there were no guarantees Harry would.

Most of all, what had fucked with Zayn was the fact that he had spent three hours in that room, but he hadn’t been able to look at those green eyes, not even once.

 _Must this hurt you just before you go?_ , Harry sung in Zayn’s head as he finally got home.

Zayn grunted something unintelligible, glad that Louis and Liam had gone straight to bed and weren’t there to witness how crazy he was going already after less than twenty-four hours, and he decided to try and fix his fucking brain.

He shed his jacket and frantically turned on his computer, setting it on his lap and opening YouTube. He typed ‘harry styles ever since new york’ in the search bar, and was hit with a string of videos. From each thumbline, chocolate curls and green eyes stared at him.

Whenever Zayn got a song stuck in his head, his infallible remedy had always been to listen to the song, and after a while, it always went away. So he clicked on the first link, grateful that at least Harry was on YouTube where people could actually listen to him even when he wasn’t there.

Harry was wearing a simple white t-shirt and black jeans in the video, and it looked like he was in some kind of pub, not unlike the one they’d been in the night before. His hair was a bit shorter, and the sleeves of the t-shirt left his arms uncovered, so Zayn found out he had a shitton of lame tattoos on one of his arms. He chuckled, despite himself.

_Tell me something, tell me something_

_You don’t know nothing, just pretend you do_

_I need something, tell me something new_

_Choose your words ‘cause there’s no antidote_

_For this curse_

_Oh, what’s it waiting for?_

_Must this hurt you just before you go?_

Zayn’s heart clenched a little bit in finally being able to hear that sultry voice again. Was he always like that when he sung? Did he always look like sex on a stick, like he could be every single person’s fantasy come to life, like he could just be yours if you looked at him hard enough?

_Brooklyn saw me, empty at the news_

_There’s no water inside this swimming pool_

_Almost over, had enough from you_

_And I’ve been praying, I never did before_

_Understand I’m talking to the walls_

_I’ve been praying ever since New York_

The verse Zayn had never even gotten the chance of listening to the night before sounded even sadder than the first one. Zayn couldn’t help but wonder who had hurt Harry so much that they’d inspired him his songs, if there had even been a physical person causing him pain. He clenched his fists, annoyed at himself for being angry at a person that maybe didn’t even exist.

Once the song was over, and Zayn’s room was plunged in silence again, he realized two things.

One, the song was still there in his head.

Two, now that he knew the whole song, he even had the second verse stuck in his brain.

“Fuck me” he groaned, and clicked on a random link.

That song was called _Only Angel_ , and it was dirty. Zayn didn’t know if he wanted to curse Harry more for writing it in the first place, or for not performing it the night before, because he was a fucking sight for sore eyes as he sung that one.

Two hours later, when there wasn’t a single song by Harry Styles Zayn hadn’t listened to at least twice, _Ever Since New York_ was still in his head, and so were the eyes and curls of the bloke who had written the damned tune.

He went to bed very annoyed and very aroused, but stoically decided to do nothing about either.

 

*

 

_Brooklyn saw me, empty at the news_

_There’s no water inside this swimming pool_

_Almost over, had enough from you_

“Go fuck yourself, Harry Styles” Zayn muttered as he opened his eyes to yet another day in which he had Harry’s song stuck in his mind.

Three weeks had gone by since Harry Styles had slipped into a coma. Three weeks in which Zayn had tried everything he could think of to get rid of his song.

He’d listened to it on repeat. Bought the whole album, played it for an entire day on a loop. Sung the song himself. Spent time by Harry’s bedside every single night, convincing Niall to go home and rest. He’d stared at Harry’s unconscious form, silently begging him to wake the fuck up. He’d run his fingers along the small cross tattooed on Harry’s hand, stupidly thinking that if Harry was his soulmate, then maybe Zayn was his, and it could mean something. It could mean Zayn could make him wake up, so he could finish the bloody song and Zayn could be done with the whole thing. So he could stare at those green eyes one more time and tell him to go fuck himself in person.

None of it had happened, because Zayn was right, and soulmates didn’t mean shit. Harry had stayed in his coma, his song had stayed in Zayn’s head. And if Zayn still spent time by his bedside when Niall was resting, and took care of untangling Harry’s curls because he hated when they tangled, well, nobody had to know. Not even Harry himself.

“You look like total shit, mate” Louis stated that morning. Zayn had picked him and Liam up after driving Safaa to the beauty parlour where she’d started working just a couple days before, because if he had needed to wake up at that ungodly hour, then he wasn’t gonna waste the sun.

So Louis and Liam had joined him for a walk in the park (well, Liam was jogging, but it would have been easier to teach a llama to ballroom dance rather than convince Zayn and Louis to jog).

Zayn shrugged, and grinned at Liam’s back, a couple yards ahead of them. “Look at your boyfriend. How is he even alive? It’s nine in the bloody morning”

Louis chuckled. “He usually goes at seven. It’s _late_ for him, he waited just ‘cause I told him you were gonna be around”

Zayn scoffed, although fondly. “Health freak. But I like him, have I ever told you that?”

“One too many times, my friend” Louis sighed “If I wasn’t so damn sure about how much Liam likes me, I might even be jealous”

“Oh, so you’re _just_ sure about Liam? Nothing to do with paper hearts and songs?”

Louis shrugged. “Nah, not really. I mean yeah, that’s how we found each other, but our whole relationship? That’s all us”

Zayn nodded, kicking some gravel with the tip of his boot and stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He didn’t reply to that, partly because he didn’t want to be a dick to Louis, and partly because maybe, just _maybe_ , Zayn was considering that himself. He still firmly believed the whole soulmates deal was bullshit, but what if Louis – and Niall – were at least a tiny bit right? Relationships didn’t just come into being out of thin air, and maybe it was true that you still had to put your effort into it even if _fate_ chose your partner. Zayn didn’t think it always worked out, but Louis and Liam were indeed proof that sometimes it did. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, believe that all that tied those two was paper hearts and songs. They were _real_.

“Zed?” Louis brought him back to reality, in a sombre tone he rarely used.

Zayn hummed.

“You still got Harry’s song stuck in your head?”

Zayn sighed, and nodded, because there was no use in denying it. It had been almost a whole month, and he still found himself murmuring the song, still found Harry’s raspy voice whispering it in every corner of his mind.

“I don’t understand” he huffed, surprising himself at his own frustrated tone “I get songs stuck in my head all the fucking time, Lou. How can Harry be my soulmate if he told me that he always finishes all his songs out of respect for his eventual soulmate?”

“Zayn, mate, I’m sure he tries to do that, but… honestly, how many times have you been singing to yourself and then you were interrupted by someone, something? It just happens”

“The songs I get stuck in my head always go away very quickly” Zayn replied, nodding a little.

“Yeah. That’s probably ‘cause even when Harry gets interrupted, he tries to finish the song as soon as he can. As you said, out of respect”

“Niall says he’s obsessed with people having to be kind to each other”

“Well, then I hope he wakes up real soon so at least he can teach you something, ‘cause you’re a rude motherfucker most of the time” Louis answered with a snicker, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

Zayn chuckled and shoved at him a little bit.

 _Tell me something just before you go_ , Harry whispered in his ears. Zayn shook his head, and was about to beg Louis to keep talking, just to distract him, when his phone buzzed.

It was a text from Niall, and when Zayn opened it, his fingers started to shake so bad that Louis had to grab his hands to steady him.

 _Harry woke up_ , it just said.

Zayn tried to type a reply, but he was still shaking, and Louis ripped his phone out of his hands. “Jesus Christ. What do you want me to tell him?”

Zayn drove his fingers through his hair. “Just tell him I’m coming now”

Louis nodded and typed before returning the phone to Zayn. “Are you okay to drive? Please don’t kill yourself over a bloke you barely know”

Zayn nodded and started to run to the exit of the park. “Tell Liam I said bye and sorry!” he screamed back at Louis.

_Oh, tell me something I don’t already know_

Zayn laughed. “Keep singing, Harry Styles, ‘cause it’s about to be the last bloody time I hear you” he said out loud as he spotted his car in the parking lot.

A lady frowned at him, probably thinking he was crazy. “I’m not crazy!” he shouted at her “I’m just about to be sane again!”

The lady flinched and quickly crossed the street to put some more distance between Zayn and herself.

Zayn laughed and started the car.

 

*

 

When Zayn got to the hospital and was granted permission to visit Harry, he climbed the stairs to the third floor two at a time. The result was that he reached room 312 in no time, and no breath.

He panted, staring at the closed door and hearing Niall’s voice behind it. Niall’s voice, and _his_ voice as well. Harry. Harry, alive, talking, awake.

He knocked, taking a couple of steadying breaths. “Come in” Niall said cheerfully.

Zayn opened the door as fast as he could, stumbling inside, still panting.

Niall frowned at him, and Harry… Harry was there, sitting on the bed with his back propped against some pillows, hospital gown covering all but his arms, stupid fucking tattoos on display. His green eyes had bags under them, but they were still _so_ green, lively, _open_. His hair was in a bun, and some wild curls had escaped, and they framed his face so delicately Zayn wanted to tug them and see if Harry would like it. If he would groan, if his eyelids would flutter.

“Zayn?” Harry said, a bit astounded. His voice, Jesus, _his voice was right there_.

“Please finish the fucking song” Zayn blurted out, although something in the back of his mind told him he should have probably started by saying hello.

Harry frowned. “Excuse me?”

“The song! The fucking song! _Ever Since New York_! Please, I know you don’t fucking know me, but I beg you, finish the fucking song”

Niall stood up, staring at Zayn. He didn’t look angry, but he wasn’t smiling either. “Zayn, Harry woke up just a couple of hours ago, so…”

“Fuck” Harry sighed, his long fingers going to his temples and pressing on them “Shit, fuck, I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t finish the song before tripping, did I?”

Zayn nodded.

“And… you… you’re…” Harry stuttered, a lovely blush staining his cheeks.

Zayn nodded again, finding that he couldn’t quite look at Harry’s eyes anymore. He took a deep breath, and answered. “Yeah. I am. And like, I get that you just woke up and you’re probably feeling like shit. So you don’t have to do it, like, _now_. I waited three weeks, I can wait a little bit more. But, please, do it soon?”

Harry sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. “Three weeks. Three bloody weeks. I’m so sorry, Zayn”

Niall patted Harry’s shoulder. “You were in a fucking coma, Haz. I’m sure Zayn doesn’t blame you”

Well, Zayn _had_ blamed Harry and his klutzy movements almost every night for the past month, but he rationally knew Harry had no fault. “Yeah. No need to say sorry. As I said, just please, finish the song when you’re feeling a bit better?” he said “And I’m sorry I just barged in. I’ll… I’ll go now. You… get well soon, yeah?” he added, suddenly realizing how pathetic he probably looked, crashing in a hospital room and almost shouting at a bloke who had literally just woken up from a fucking coma.

“No!” Harry shouted, and his blush intensified. He wrung his hands, staring at them for a second before he spoke again without looking back up at Zayn “You can stay? I can finish it now. But you can stay if you came all the way here”

Zayn didn’t really know why, but he just nodded. Niall stared at Zayn, and then at Harry. “Okay, you do your thing then. I’m gonna go look for some coffee. Zed, please make sure he doesn’t hit himself in the head with the IV stick, yeah?”

Zayn, despite himself, snorted a little laugh, and Harry also laughed, although embarrassedly.

Niall patted both of them on the shoulder and went out of the room, closing the door behind himself, and Zayn stayed where he was, by the entrance, standing and staring at his boots.

“Sit?” Harry said “It’s like, we can try to not make it even weirder than it already is”

Zayn agreed, wholeheartedly, and sat down on the chair which had been previously occupied by Niall, right by Harry’s side.

Harry smiled at Zayn, just a little, and then he took a deep breath.

And he finally, _finally_ , started singing.

Zayn felt like a dick as he watched Harry sing with his eyes closed, in his hospital bed. He could have waited until Harry would be discharged. He could even have fucking asked how he was before demanding he finish the song, to be honest. But what was done was done, so Zayn tried to make amends in the only way that he could think of. He stared at Harry, giving him his undisputed attention even if Harry wasn’t even looking back at him.

It was not an ideal situation. Harry didn’t have his flowy shirts, or his tight jeans. His hair wasn’t free, and he didn’t even have his guitar.

Zayn realized Harry didn’t need any of that, though, because his voice, _his fucking voice_ , was all that mattered. And despite Harry having been practically mute for a month, his voice was still perfect, still on that edge of raspy, still sounding like Harry was singing both for a room full of people and for Zayn and Zayn alone.

And when Harry sung his last _Oh, tell me something I don’t already know_ , Zayn was met with silence.

Actual, real silence, both outside and _inside_ his head.

If he thought he would be relieved, he was sorely mistaken, because the silence was still coming with a price. And the price was that Zayn was now sure, hundred per cent sure, that Harry Styles was his soulmate, and he didn’t know what to do with that, because he had spent his whole life thinking that soulmates were bullshit, but he couldn’t deny how obsessed he’d been with Harry’s eyes and neck and hands and voice the past month, and he wasn’t entirely sure all of that had to do with his songs.

That, and the fact that Zayn didn’t even know if they were _mutual_ soulmates. Not that it really mattered.

He felt Harry’s thumb stroke the back of his hand, and when he looked down, he realized his hand had slipped into Harry’s at some point during the song. He hadn’t even realized. Had it been Zayn? Had it been Harry? Both?

Zayn raised his head to look at those green, green eyes, because he didn’t even know if he’d ever see them again.

“So I’m your soulmate?” Harry asked, in barely a whisper.

Zayn just nodded, because he wasn’t sure his voice was working right now. He felt a lump in his throat, and tried to gulp it down, failing. “Are you… are you okay?” he asked, tentatively “I’m sorry I didn’t ask earlier”

Harry smiled, and none of them pointed out their fingers were still entwined. “Don’t worry, I get it. Must have been hell. Three weeks, Jesus, I would have gone mad”

Zayn nodded. “It was a good song, at least” he offered, because Harry looked truly mortified.

He blushed some more. “Cheers. Means a lot”

“So? What did the doctors say?”

“They said I’m fine” Harry answered “They’re running all the required tests today, and if they turn out okay I can go home in a couple of days”

“Well, that’s cool, isn’t it?” Zayn commented.

Harry nodded, and silence settled on them again. Zayn had never done well with awkward silences, so he took it as his cue to leave. He stood up, ignoring Harry’s expectant eyes fixated on him.

“Am I yours?” Zayn heard the words, but he didn’t realize they’d left his own mouth until they were actually spoken, and suddenly he had a physical urge to grab them and put them back down his fucking throat.

Harry stared at him for a long while. “No. You’re not my soulmate” he then said, surely enough that Zayn didn’t even think to ask how he knew, because he just did.

Something in Zayn’s ribcage shattered, and Zayn cursed himself for the pang of disappointment, because that was _good_. It was _perfect_ , actually, because it meant Zayn could still hold a semblance of control over his own fucking life, thank you very much.

So he smiled, and then leaned right on Harry, brushing his lips against Harry’s ear when he spoke. “Good” he whispered “Because that means that as soon as you’re all healed we can fuck the shit out of each other because we _want to_ , and not because an arsehole universe decided for us”

Harry gaped at Zayn when he pulled back a little bit to observe those green eyes’ reaction, and Zayn smirked, deciding that _fuck it_ , he wanted Harry, and Harry might as well know.

So he grinned, and the next moment his lips were on Harry’s. Harry went very still, but just for a moment, before his lips started to move against Zayn’s, and when he parted them, Zayn felt no fucking remorse at all, and slid his tongue in Harry’s mouth, while Harry gripped the sheets with both his fists, and twisted his hands in a way that made Zayn wish they were in a different setting, a setting where he could have Harry splayed on a bed and those long fingers twisted in his hair instead of hospital bedding.

“Hm?” Zayn hummed questioningly, a grin still on his lips as he licked them when they stopped kissing.

Harry’s eyes followed Zayn’s tongue over his lips, and he nodded. “Yeah. Definitely. Give me time to get out of here”

Zayn grinned. “Easy there. Get well first. I need you at your best for what I’m planning on doing to you”

Harry shivered and bit down on his lips. “Fuck me” he muttered.

Zayn chuckled. “Yeah. That too” he stated “And fuck the soulmate business”

Harry nodded. “Yeah. Fuck it” he said.

Zayn kissed him again, just because he could and wanted to, and Harry slipped his tongue inside his mouth first that time, but Zayn let him just for a second before pulling away without being able to help a new grin. “Get well soon, Harry Styles. I’ll see ya” he said, waved at him, and went out of the room.

 

*

 

“You did bloody _what_?” Louis screeched that night.

Zayn chuckled. “Yep. Got him all hot and bothered in his hospital bed, and now he’s gonna wait until he’s well. Serves him right. Three weeks is a long fucking time”

Liam sighed. “It’s not like it’s his fault, Zayn”

“I know it ain’t” Zayn conceded with a grin, which seemed to have become his permanent facial expression since that morning “But don’t you worry about poor Harry Styles, my friends. I can assure you he enjoyed it just as much as I did”

 

*

 

“So you _assure me_ that you’ll find my soulmate?”

Zayn had to use all his strength to suppress his eyeroll at the woman’s question, because she was a client, and you don’t roll your eyes at clients.

“We have a success rate of 99%, ma’am” he patiently said.

The woman sighed heavily. “That’s not what I asked”

“We will try whatever is in our power, ma’am” he replied “And besides, you gotta have some faith that the universe knows what it’s doing, don’t you?”

He smiled brightly at the woman, who beamed and nodded. “You’re right. Everything will work out in the end” she said, and left.

“Well, for being a cynic arsehole at the universe, you sure know how to make ‘em believe in it, don’t ya?” Niall commented once they were alone again.

Zayn arched an eyebrow. “They’re the reason we have a job, Niall. They _have_ to believe in it or they’re gonna stop paying”

Niall shrugged. “So” he said after a moment, nonchalantly studying his computer and avoiding direct eye contact with Zayn.

Zayn rolled his eyes. “So” he parroted.

“Harry’s home and doing well”

“Good for him”

Niall didn’t reply, and Zayn counted down from five. He reached two before Niall spoke again. “Why didn’t you tell me he’s your soulmate?”

“’Cause it doesn’t matter, Ni”

“Well now I understand why you’ve been looking like shit this past month” Niall said “I thought you were just lacking sleep, but you were actually going a bit crazy there, yeah?”

Zayn reluctantly nodded. “Three weeks with the same song stuck in your head is not fun and games”

Niall nodded. “So what are you gonna do about it?” he asked, fidgeting with a pen on his desk.

“Nothing” Zayn said surely “’Cause one, I don’t care. And two, he’s my soulmate but I’m not his”

“Oh” Niall just said, looking particularly grim after Zayn’s last statement.

Zayn arched his eyebrow again. He would definitely strain a face muscle very soon, at that rate. “What, you didn’t know? I figured Harry would tell you, you two are as close as I’m with Louis”

Niall shrugged. “Yeah, Zed, but… it’s a bit tricky to talk with Harry about soulmate business. Like, he believes in it, he really does, but it’s not like he’s been going around looking for his, you know. I don’t ask, honestly. He’s a paper hearts person, so I guess at least _he_ has to know himself. He’ll tell me when he’s ready”

Zayn felt something weird flinch in his stomach, but forced himself to school his features in a blank expression. “So you think he already found his?”

“No, I don’t think so”

“Then how can you know he’s a paper hearts bloke?”

“’Cause he does get songs stuck in his head, but they always go away as soon as he listens to them. So we figured he’s a paper hearts lad”

Zayn nodded. So that was why Harry had been so sure Zayn wasn’t his soulmate. There had certainly been no paper hearts when they first met, or both of them would have noticed.

Niall sighed and stood up, wearing his coat. “I’mma go get us lunch. Falafel okay?”

Zayn smiled. “Cheers, Ni”

Niall smiled back, and grabbed his wallet from his desk, heading out and turning the sign on the door from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed’ before going his way.

Zayn listened to the absolute _silence_ with a sigh, but barely had time to enjoy it before the door opened, making the chimes on top of it jingle.

“Hello, sorry, we’re closed for lunch bre…” Zayn said, but closed his mouth as soon as he recognized the curls bobbing on the person’s head.

Harry looked good, as usual, because he’d looked fucking _edible_ even in a hospital bed, so no surprise there. He was wearing his usual skinny jeans, ripped at the knees, and a floral-printed sheer shirt on which he’d only bothered to close the last two buttons. He had a navy-blue coat, completely open, and his hair was loose, a bit frizzy because of the weather.

“You just got out of the hospital, maybe it’s not wise to walk around with your chest bare. You’re gonna get pneumonia” Zayn supplied, not standing up from his chair, and gulping down the ridiculous amount of saliva his mouth was producing.

Harry grinned. “Afraid you’re gonna have your _plans_ delayed, Malik?”

“I don’t believe I ever told you my surname, Styles”

Harry shrugged, getting closer to Zayn’s booth. “I live with Niall. I knew a lot of shit about you even before you knew I existed” he stated.

Zayn rolled his eyes. “If Niall had cared to share info the other way round as well, we could have already been fucking months ago, babe” he replied, grinning just as wide as Harry.

Harry didn’t flinch, but Zayn noticed how his cheeks were suddenly pinker. “Right. Anyway. I came to tell you that I got a gig tonight at the same club where your sister had her birthday party”

“Are you telling me ‘cause you’re afraid you’re gonna end up in a coma and become the bane of my existence again?” Zayn smiled tightly.

Harry rolled his eyes, and _hey_ , that was _Zayn’s_ thing. “No, you nitwit. I’m telling you ‘cause I want you to come” he said, getting right in Zayn’s space and leaning on him where he was still sitting in his chair “So that afterwards we can fuck the shit out of each other as you promised” he whispered right to Zayn’s ear, copying the way Zayn himself had murmured to him in the hospital, not even two weeks earlier.

Zayn heard the smirk in Harry’s tone, although he couldn’t see it. And well, Zayn had never dealt well with people having the upper hand on him, so he fought back in the only way he could think of. He slid his fingers up Harry’s chest, right where the shirt was baring his torso for him, and he felt Harry’s abs contract in his hand’s wake. He had a moth tattooed on his stomach, and Zayn saw it flutter under his palm. Harry let out a sigh in Zayn’s ear, and Zayn grinned.

“Were you saying, babe?” Zayn whispered, his hand sliding up and down Harry’s chest.

Harry didn’t answer, but huffed another warm breath in Zayn’s ear. Zayn distinctly saw the growing bulge in Harry’s absurdly tight jeans, and for a moment he thought of the situation at hand.

_What’s my life become, a low-qual porno?_

He shrugged, because _fuck it_ , he’d been craving those long fingers of Harry’s from the moment he fucking first saw them. So he sneaked a hand on Harry’s belt, and moved to undo it, his fingers brushing Harry’s dick in the process, which made both of them shiver.

“Fucking hell” Harry murmured, his face in Zayn’s neck. Zayn thought the position could not be comfortable for Harry, with the way he was practically bent in two so that his face could be at the level of Zayn’s neck, but on the other hand, the position looked very comfortable for Zayn to finally get his mouth on Harry’s dick.

None of that happened, because Niall hadn’t actually gone to Egypt to get falafel, but just at the end of the street, so he came back right that moment, and Zayn blessed the chimes on the door which gave him and Harry a nanosecond of warning.

Harry squealed in a way that shouldn’t have been as sexy as Zayn actually found it, and straightened his back, standing in all his tall glory, his mouth now away from Zayn’s neck. Zayn immediately decided he hated the inches that separated their faces with a passion.

“Haz?” Niall frowned, staring at his friend.

Harry smiled. “I was passing by”

Niall arched an eyebrow, and then looked at Zayn, who stood up and smiled as brightly and innocently as he fucking could, which admittedly was not very bright and innocent at all. “Cheers for lunch, Ni”

Niall handed him his falafel and then stared at Harry again. “Did you pass by so Zayn could help you do your belt?”

Harry – and Zayn, although just for a single moment – looked down at his crotch, where his belt was undone. “Ah, fuck me” he muttered, buckling it up again.

 _Hold that thought, babe_ , Zayn thought with a smirk, and it felt like the thousandth time.

Niall muttered something in Gaelic with an eyeroll, and Zayn didn’t speak Gaelic, but he was sure it was something along the lines of _you’re both fucking slags_ , because that was how Zayn felt as well.

Harry clapped his hands once and smiled even brighter. “So, I gotta get going now, but I’ll see you tonight, Zayn?”

Zayn snorted. “Yeah, maybe you will” he said, as vaguely as he could “Be careful on your way home”

“Awww, you worried for me?” Harry batted his eyelashes.

Zayn rolled his eyes, _again_. “Worried for my mental health, more like” he muttered.

Harry pouted, but he was still grinning as well. “I’ll see you then. You take care of yourself as well” he said, raking his eyes down Zayn’s body and blatantly stopping at his crotch.

Zayn pretended not to notice his own raging boner.

“Yo!” Niall shouted “I’m here and I won’t have my friends eye-fucking each other in my workplace”

Harry giggled, emitted an actual, real-life _giggle_ , and drummed his fingers in the air in front of Zayn’s face with a wink before blowing a kiss to Niall and heading out in a swirl of coat, shirt and curls.

“Jesus Christ” Zayn muttered, plopping on his chair again.

Niall snickered. “Haz is… a lot”

Zayn nodded. “Kinda figured that one out”

“Be careful, my Zed. You might just fall in love with him before you know what’s hit you” Niall sentenced.

Zayn scoffed. “Yeah, sure”

 

*

 

“Someone has a daaate” Louis sing-sang upon entering Zayn’s flat uninvited, as usual.

“How do you even _know_?” Zayn asked, staring at himself in the full-body mirror he had in his living room, because _yes_ , he lived alone and if he decided to have his mirror in the living room, it was his business.

“I’ll never understand why you put the mirror in the living room” Louis commented.

Zayn sighed. “Lighting’s better. How do you _know_?”

Louis shrugged. “Niall texted me and Liam on the group chat”

“You have a _group chat_ with _Niall_?” Zayn shouted indignantly, turning to look at Louis who had settled on the couch without a care in the world.

“Yeah we do, don’t get your knickers in a twist. We made it when we were keeping Niall company at the hospital while you were at work” Louis replied.

“Why am I not in it?”

“We might have used it to talk about you and Harry once or twice”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “Traitor” he hissed, buckling his belt.

“You look good” Louis said wagging his eyebrows “Planning on getting some tonight?”

“Yes, Louis, I actually do” Zayn answered “But you know everything about it since _Niall_ told you on your _group chat_ ”

“Well, even if he didn’t, I would have understood it right this second, ‘cause those are your fuck-me jeans”

“I don’t have any fuck-me jeans”

“You really do, Zed” Louis sighed “So…”

“So what?” Zayn carefully kept his eyes trained on the buttons of his shirt as he closed them.

“Do you really think this is a good idea?” Louis caved at last with another sigh.

Zayn smiled. “I actually think that me and Harry Styles fucking is a great idea, Louis”

“And what about the teeny tiny detail of him being your soulmate?”

Zayn sighed and shrugged. “I don’t care. He’s fit, he thinks I’m fit, and that’s it” he said, wearing his leather jacket. He might not have any fuck-me jeans, but he could admit he had a fuck-me jacket.

“Just be careful what you do, yeah? I don’t want you to end up hurt” Louis said pensively.

“It’s fine, Lou. Actually, it’s fucking perfect. He might be my soulmate, but I’m not his, so you see, this is not the universe pairing us up, it’s just me and him _deciding_ ” Zayn said with another smile, and then leaned over Louis, giving him a wet smacking kiss on his forehead “Lock the door on your way out, yeah?” he winked, and left snickering while Louis grimaced and wiped Zayn’s saliva from his forehead with a curse.

 

*

 

Zayn was sure Harry was doing it on purpose, he thought as he watched him cock his hip, holding the mic stand with a smirk.

_It's New York, baby, always jacked up_

_Holland Tunnel for a nose, it's always backed up_

The song was called _Kiwi_ for reasons only known to Harry Styles himself, but Zayn didn’t find it in his heart to be mad about the mystery, because Harry was making up for it by being the sexiest man Zayn had ever fucking seen while singing it. Zayn also wondered what Harry’s obsession with New York in his songs was about, but that question probably better stay unanswered as well.

The club was a bit far from Zayn’s place, and because Zayn had never been a lucky person, he’d been stuck in traffic for more than half an hour while getting there. When he’d finally made it and gotten inside, Harry was already climbing the little steps of the stage, guitar strapped to his back. Zayn had seen the small frown etched to Harry’s forehead, and he decidedly hadn’t wondered for even a moment if it could mean Harry was upset that Zayn was not there. Even if said frown had instantly gone away when Harry had spotted Zayn sitting by the bar, replaced by a smirk and a wink.

 _It’s none of your business_ , Harry sung, screaming into the mic and curving his broad shoulders. Zayn took a sip from his glass, glad that he’d decided to wear his ‘fuck-me jeans’, because they were tight enough to somewhat hide the semi he was already sporting.

“Fucking hell”, he muttered in his glass. If he had to be honest, he was also glad Niall wasn’t there cheering on Harry as usual, because he doubted he could hide _that_ from him.

Once Harry’s set was over, last song being _Only Angel_ , the one Zayn had found dirty while listening to it on YouTube (and was even dirtier when Harry sung it live), Harry thanked the audience and stepped down, carefully putting his guitar in its case and propping it by the wall behind the little stage.

Zayn didn’t even try not to ogle his ass while he did so, but when Harry turned and grinned at him, he arched an eyebrow at him, taking one more sip from his drink.

“You were late” Harry pouted as soon as he reached Zayn. He was slightly sweaty. Zayn wanted to lick him.

He shrugged. “I never even told you that I was coming”

“Oh, I knew you would be eager to see me perform again”

“Pretentious, ain’t you?” Zayn smirked.

Harry grinned, but didn’t reply. Instead, he grabbed Zayn’s drink from his hands, and downed it in two gulps, then set the empty glass back on the counter. “Well, now that you’ve offered me a drink, what do you say we get the fuck out of here?”

Zayn snorted. “Who’s eager now?”

Harry leaned into him, and Zayn smelled his cologne and something more, something purely _Harry_. “We can bicker and eye-fuck, or we can go and properly fuck. What do you want?” Harry whispered in Zayn’s ear.

Zayn shivered, but grabbed Harry’s shirt nonetheless, knocking their lips together and shoving his tongue in his mouth without a single care for the fact that they were still in public, surrounded by people who were probably still eyeing the singer.

Harry laughed in Zayn’s mouth. “My place is close by” he said.

Zayn chuckled. “Sorry babe, but your place has Niall in it. And as much as I love the lad, I really don’t want him to hear us fuck. And I’ll be damned if I’ll let you restrain that pretty voice of yours tonight”

Harry laughed again, but Zayn felt him shiver against his chest. “Fair enough. Yours then?”

Zayn nodded. “Mine it is”

 

*

 

Zayn thought they would at least make it to the living room, but it turned out they didn’t even make it to the fucking door.

While climbing the stairs to his flat, Harry had decided it was a brilliant idea to plaster himself to Zayn’s back, his big hands snaking to his stomach, under his shirt, and while Zayn didn’t mind the closeness of course, he was also very bad at restraining himself.

So he turned and shoved Harry to the wall (he was very proud of himself for having the presence of mind to take Harry’s guitar off his back before doing so), eliciting an aroused hiss from him, and kissing it out of his mouth while grinding his hips down. Harry was hard, very hard, but then again, so was Zayn, and so had he been for almost the whole night.

“Bed, bed, we need a bed” Harry managed to grit out as Zayn’s lips travelled down his neck.

Zayn nodded, but it took him two more bites to Harry’s collarbone before actually being able to let him go long enough to fish his keys from the inside pocket of his jacket.

He strode to the door of his flat, and his hands were shaking in anticipation as he pressed the key in the lock. He twisted it, and Harry pressed himself to his back again, his dick hard against the small of Zayn’s back, and his lips wet on the nape of his neck.

Zayn finally managed to get the door open despite being attacked by a giant clusterfuck of long limbs, because that’s what Harry was, and the moment they stepped past the threshold, he was being shoved against the closed door with a mouthful of hair as Harry latched his lips to Zayn’s jugular and propped his guitar against the wall without even looking at it.

Zayn laughed and spluttered, thinking that Harry’s hair in his mouth was the least sexy thing in the world, and yet he got impossibly harder just by Harry’s hands stroking his shoulders to make his jacket fall to the floor.

“Bed, bed” Zayn was the one who pointed it out now, pushing Harry backwards, and Harry just frantically nodded, his lips going for Zayn’s again, his tongue getting more and more demanding.

By the time they stumbled to Zayn’s bedroom – Harry tripped twice on the stairs, but Zayn was holding his hips hard, so he didn’t fall and get into a coma again – they were both in their underwear, and had left a trail of clothes behind them.

Zayn pushed Harry on the bed, on his back, and propped his knees by Harry’s hips, taking a second to just look at him.

The moth wasn’t the only tattoo Harry had on his torso; he also had two swallows under his collarbones, and two laurels ran along the V of his hips, curving and disappearing under the line of his boxers.

“Christ, Harry” Zayn found himself whispering, and there was really only one thing he felt like doing.

He lowered himself on Harry, tracing the shape of the swallows with his tongue, running it down Harry’s chest while he squirmed and panted under him. As soon as Zayn’s mouth reached his lower belly, Harry’s hands flew to Zayn’s hair, grabbing a handful of it, but without pulling it.

Zayn looked at Harry’s flushed face, his green eyes flashing with something dark. Zayn never knew what pure lust looked like before that moment. Harry nodded, and Zayn hooked his fingers under the waistband of Harry’s boxers, pulling them down.

His mouth watered when Harry was completely exposed and looking so eager to be at Zayn’s mercy, so Zayn didn’t waste any more time, and closed his mouth on his dick, lightly swallowing around it. Harry opened his mouth and let out a filthy groan which made Zayn’s own dick get even harder, and painfully press against the edge of the bed where he was crouched.

“Fuck” Harry muttered, and when Zayn started to bob his head up and down, Harry’s hands tightened in his hair. Zayn found he didn’t mind at all.

When Harry’s moans pitched, Zayn sunk deeper on him, taking him in to the hilt and slightly gagging when he felt Harry’s dick push against the back of his throat.

“Zayn Zayn Zayn I’m gonna come stop stop” Harry blurted out, squeezing his eyes shut, and Zayn smirked, but obeyed.

“Don’t you wanna come, babe?” he asked, hearing how fucked his voice was, and not caring at all.

Harry nodded, his breath ragged. “I do, I do, so much. But I want you to fuck me. I wanna come with you”

And well, if Zayn thought he couldn’t get any harder, he’d never been so wrong.

Harry sat up to grab Zayn’s shoulders and pull him closer, kissing his lips almost raw and probably liking the taste of himself on Zayn’s tongue, if his smug grin was anything to go by. His big hands roamed over Zayn’s back until they came to rest on his ass, where he tugged at Zayn’s briefs until Zayn chuckled and kicked them off.

He held himself on one hand by Harry’s head, while he rummaged through his bedside drawer with the other, looking for lube and a condom. “Ah, come on” he hissed, scavenging among all the notepads and pens and stray socks. When he finally found what he was looking for, he tossed the items next to them.

He opened his mouth to ask Harry if he was sure, but Harry was having none of it, because he scrambled for the lube and pushed the small bottle in Zayn’s hand, with a gaze that clearly said “Get on with it already”.

Zayn chuckled and coated his fingers in lube, intently staring at Harry’s face as he pushed one finger inside him.

Harry’s eyelashes fluttered, and he bit down on his own bottom lip, slightly rocking his hips against Zayn’s hand. “Another” he moaned, and Zayn obliged.

By the time Zayn had three fingers in him, Harry was panting and squirming. “I’m ready, I’m ready, please, Zayn, please”

Zayn kissed him to shut him up. “Don’t be greedy” he whispered on his lips, but proceeded to roll the condom on anyway.

Harry smiled and panted some more, and he closed his eyes when Zayn started to push inside of him.

He was tight, so fucking tight Zayn had to close his eyes as well to avoid coming on the spot. “Fuck, Harry”

Harry nodded. “Please”

Zayn nodded too. “You’re… so tight” he hissed, and Harry just closed his legs around Zayn’s hips, his calves wrapped around Zayn’s back, pushing him forward until he bottomed out.

Zayn felt like a cliché for thinking that Harry felt like no one else, but there was it, because it was true. The way Harry flung his head backwards on the pillows, muttering Zayn’s name while baring the pale line of his neck to him, was something almost otherworldly to Zayn.

He buried his face in Harry’s neck, and rocked his hips for a little while in that tight heat, until Harry started mumbling nonsense among which Zayn heard the words ‘harder’ and ‘please’ and ‘more’.

And because Zayn had been fucking weak to Harry’s green eyes and pink lips from day one, he obeyed. Harry’s nails dug in his shoulders while Zayn slammed his hips back and forth on him, and he thought they were gonna leave bruises, so he sucked his own mark on Harry’s neck.

Harry moaned louder, and Zayn froze for a moment at the thought that maybe he didn’t want any marks, at least not in visible places. Harry stared at him, and probably read his mind, because he just smiled and shook his head. “I don’t care if the whole world sees” he panted, and Zayn forgot whatever remorse he’d just had.

He changed his angle just barely, and was rewarded by Harry’s incredibly pretty voice becoming the filthiest thing he’d ever heard, so he kept that angle until Harry grabbed his shoulders even harder. “I’m gonna come, Zayn” he groaned, and Zayn took pity on him, so he closed his hand around his neglected dick and tugged.

It took barely a couple strokes for Harry to moan Zayn’s name one more time, and then he was coming on both their stomachs, clenching almost painfully around Zayn, and that was what brought Zayn over the edge as well.

He came biting Harry’s neck, right where his bruise stood purple, and he collapsed on Harry’s chest.

The room fell into silence, a silence only broken by their attempts at catching their breaths; Zayn suddenly became very aware of the come drying between them, and of how uncomfortable Harry probably was, so he kissed his jaw and slowly pulled out, rolling the condom off and tying it before tossing it into the bin.

Harry smiled lazily at him as he went to the bathroom to retrieve a washcloth. After wetting it with warm water, he brought it back to his bedroom and found Harry still in the same starfish position, still with a smile on his face, and his eyes half-lidded.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll dry your own come off your chest, my lord” Zayn muttered sarcastically, but even he himself could feel there was no heat behind his remark.

Harry chuckled and quietly enjoyed Zayn cleaning him off, but when Zayn wore his briefs again, he sat up. “So” he said, clearing his throat “I’ll… I’ll go, then, I think”

Zayn arched an eyebrow. “It’s three in the bloody morning, Harry, don’t be daft. You can stay” he said.

Harry’s pretty and swollen mouth opened in a small ‘o’.

“Unless you don’t wanna stay, that is” Zayn was quick to amend, cursing himself “You do whatever you want, babe”

Harry sighed a smile. “I don’t wanna, like, bother you”

“My dick was in your arse until ten minutes ago. I think it’s fair to say you don’t bother me”

Harry scrunched his nose, and Zayn didn’t think it was cute in the slightest. “So crass” Harry commented.

Zayn arched an eyebrow and plopped into bed, staring at him. “Didn’t think you would need me to sugar-coat it for ya”

Harry laughed, and settled himself next to Zayn with a sigh and then a grin. “I’ll stay then. And. I’m a cuddler” he stated.

Zayn barely had time to process his words before Harry turned his back on him and reached backwards until he found Zayn’s arm, which he pulled. Zayn snorted when his chest collided with Harry’s back, but despite himself he let Harry wrap Zayn’s arm around himself, and nuzzled the curls on the back of his head.

“Goodnight, Zayn” he heard him whisper.

“Goodnight, babe” he said.

Harry fell asleep mere minutes later. Zayn, however, stayed there, wide awake and listening to Harry’s steady breaths for a long time, thinking that he’d never let any of his one-night stands stay the night with him in his bed, but Harry was different, Harry had been different from the start.

 _I’m fucked_ , he thought at last, before finally drifting off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this got out of hand very quickly. It was supposed to be only two chapters, but it's actually gonna be three because I got more inspired than I thought by this prompt. I guess I should tell you that this is my first Zarry, so I hope it doesn't suck too bad.  
> Next (and this time really last) chapter is gonna be here in a couple of days. Comments and kudos are always appreciated.


	3. And I've been praying, I never did before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You two are the daftest fucking people I’ve ever met, I swear” Niall commented upon taking the guitar from Zayn’s hands, carefully setting it by the wall behind his booth.  
> Zayn shook his head. “No, Harry’s good. I’m the daft one, I guess”  
> Niall arched his eyebrows at him. “He really played a number on ya, didn’t he”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usual disclaimer: I don't own or know any of the characters. All the song titles and all the quoted song lyrics belong to Harry Styles.

 

 

 

“Why do you always talk about New York in your songs?” Zayn blurted out the question as he snapped his hips upwards, making Harry’s whole body rock above him with the momentum he’d built.

Harry chuckled. “Do you really think this is a good moment to ask?” he asked back, or better, moaned, propping his hands on Zayn’s chest as he bucked his hips on him.

They’d been going at it for more than a month, and Zayn had stopped being surprised at the fact that even after a relatively long time, he still wasn’t tired of having Harry riding him in his bed, cheeks flushed and lips parted.

Zayn grinned, and sat up to suck at Harry’s neck. “’M a curious man, you know”

Harry chuckled and pushed at Zayn’s chest so he lied down again under him. “Fuck me good and maybe I’ll tell you” he whispered.

Zayn wagged his eyebrows and grabbed hard at Harry’s hips, flipping them both so he was finally on top. Harry giggled at the sudden movement, and Zayn found himself laughing too. “I always fuck you good and you know it”

Harry arched an eyebrow and rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so confident. Over-confidence is the death of every artist”

Zayn laughed, and slid almost all the way out before slamming back again inside Harry, making Harry’s eyelids flutter as he hit his prostate dead on. “Were you saying, babe?” Zayn asked, licking his lips and feeling his orgasm finally build up.

Harry met his thrust halfway and rolled his eyes again. “Shut up and make me come, babe” he demanded, and Zayn couldn’t do but oblige.

In the end, Harry didn’t tell Zayn about New York. But he told him he could spend the night with him if he wanted, which was starting to be a more and more frequent occurrence, so Zayn found out he didn’t mind if Harry kept his secrets for a while longer.

 

*

 

That morning, Zayn woke up to an empty bed and a banging of pans and pots coming from downstairs. “Fucking klutz, gonna destroy my fucking kitchen sooner or later” he muttered, but he frowned at himself in the closet mirror when he realized he was smiling.

He shook his head and drove his fingers through his hair to get it out of his eyes, and took a quick detour to the bathroom before heading to the kitchen, where he found Harry busying himself at the stove, wearing Zayn’s sweatpants and nothing else. The pants were a tad too short on him, thanks to the few inches he had on Zayn, but Zayn didn’t really mind, because Harry’s ankles were sexy.

_His fucking ankles? Oh, come on._

Zayn shook his head again and snorted when he noticed Harry was swaying his hips to a music that wasn’t really there, although he wasn’t emitting a sound.

“Morning”

Harry turned and smiled brightly, sending a spoon flying to the floor. “Oh. Morning. I lost a spoon”

Zayn sighed and bent over to retrieve the lost spoon, throwing it into the sink. “Klutz” he said, kissing Harry on his shoulder “Why were you dancing to absolutely no music?”

Harry shrugged and concentrated on what looked like pancakes batter. “I knew you were gonna wake up shortly and interrupt me so I didn’t start at all”

The unspoken truth stood between them like a physical wall. _Because if you interrupt me then the song is gonna get stuck in your head and I’ll have to finish it and it’s gonna be weird_.

Zayn forced a smile and kissed Harry on the shoulder again. “Appreciate it, babe”

“You better. It was Beyoncé, and I know how you hate her” Harry grinned.

Zayn laughed earnestly at that and shook his head, thinking that for all those years he’d thought the songs in his head were Safaa’s fault, but it had turned out it was just because Harry had the music tastes of a seventeen-year-old girl.

“You and Safaa would be best friends” he commented as Harry started to pour batter in the pan. Zayn got closer and watched carefully, afraid Harry was going to burn off his long fingers, which would be as much as a loss to him as it would be to Zayn.

Harry smiled. “Think we already are, babe”

“Hm?”

“She messaged me on YouTube after I woke up, thanking me for the concert the night of her birthday and wishing me a speedy recovery” Harry said nonchalantly “She’s very sweet”

Zayn arched both his eyebrows. “So now you’re talking to my sister?”

“She’s very nice. I wonder how you two are even related” Harry shrugged with a grin.

Zayn grinned right back, and moved to get more into Harry’s personal space, moulding his chest to Harry’s back and snaking his hands down his stomach, earning a shiver. “What _I_ wonder is what my very nice sister would say if she knew I’m fucking the shit out of her precious Harry Styles every night” he whispered.

“You’re gonna make me burn our breakfast. And a couple of my own fingers as well, probably” Harry retorted, but his voice was low enough Zayn knew he was affecting him more than he let on.

“Be careful then. We don’t want to lose your very talented fingers, do we?”

“A disgustingly domestic scene featuring Zayn Malik and Harry Styles. What a time to be alive, eh?” Louis announced his presence, and Zayn rolled his eyes, forcing his body away from Harry, but enjoying the light blush over Harry’s cheeks and neck anyway.

“Why do you always use the key when you’re not supposed to, and _don’t_ use it when I want you to?” Zayn asked, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at Louis and Liam who had just invaded his kitchen with matching grins.

Harry cleared his throat and set the pancakes on a plate, bringing it to the table without any incident.

“Besides, it’s not polite to just barge into people’s houses, Louis” he said with a frown.

“Oh, Harold, so clever and yet so naïve” Louis commented.

“My name is not Harold, Louis” Harry replied patiently “It’s just Harry. It says so even on my birth certificate”

Louis laughed. “You’re talking as if you actually think I care what your birth certificate says, Harold” he said, blowing him a kiss. Harry rolled his eyes, but pretended to catch the kiss in the air and put it in his non-existent pocket anyway.

“Leave him alone, Lou” Zayn said half-heartedly “He made breakfast. Eat and shut up”

Louis and Liam cheered and joined them at the kitchen table, and Zayn was about to taste his first bite when the doorbell rang.

“We invited Niall for breakfast” Liam supplied with a grin.

Zayn squawked indignantly. “Now you’re inviting people for breakfast at _my_ place?” he asked, but moved to stand up and let Niall in anyway. Before he could, though, Harry lightly stroked one of his elbows with light fingers and a smile and stood up to go in his stead.

Zayn smiled back at him, sitting still, and he thoroughly ignored the knowing grin Louis sent in his direction.

“Morning!” Niall’s voice boomed from the hallway after a moment “I brought Nutella!”

“Zayn doesn’t eat Nutella, Niall” Harry retorted, and Zayn concentrated to hide the blush he felt rising to his cheeks at the thought Harry remembered such a small detail about him.

Niall laughed as they made their way to the kitchen table again. “I know, the Nutella is for me and Lou, ‘cause you and Liam are health freaks, and Zayn’s just _that_ weird” he stated, fist-bumping Louis.

“Niall, don’t call Zayn weird in his own house while eating his food, it’s not nice” Harry scolded him, frowning.

Zayn was a bit overwhelmed by Harry, as often was the case those days, so he indulged himself and leaned over him to kiss his temple. “It don’t matter, babe, they’re all rude motherfuckers”

Harry’s cheeks went pink and he smiled a little in his own pancakes, while Louis, Liam and Niall pretended to gag. Zayn flipped them all off for good measure.

Zayn found out, as all five of them had breakfast together, that he didn’t mind their kitchen invasion at all.

 

*

 

Zayn had made a point of not going to Harry’s gigs anymore if he could avoid it, because he’d soon found out he didn’t particularly like it when strangers stared at Harry with those hungry eyes. Part of him was also irrationally afraid that the night would come in which Harry’s gaze would land on someone, and hearts would spark around his head, and they’d be done.

He objectively knew that Harry believed in the soulmates thing more than Zayn did, so he didn’t think his fears were not legit. Granted, he also knew Harry wouldn’t just erase Zayn out of his life on the spot, but the thought that he wouldn’t do that just out of the extreme kindness of his heart wasn’t much more appealing.

That night, though, Zayn had gone to Harry’s gig, because after they’d had sex, and Harry had started getting ready, he’d come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t ready to let Harry go do his thing and be eyed by people. So he’d kissed him raw, and he’d told him he’d come. Harry had beamed at him, and Zayn had chuckled, texting Safaa to ask her if she wanted to join.

So now he was sitting at the bar with his sister, had even bought her a beer because he knew she’d postponed a date with her boyfriend to come just because she probably understood what Zayn was going through even if he’d never told her. Safaa was much like Trisha, in the sense that she seemed to be creepily psychic when it was about Zayn.

_We never learn, we’ve been here before_

_Why are we always stuck and running from_

_The bullets?_

Zayn chuckled at Harry’s voice singing that song. He’d been with him when he wrote it, and the first draft had been _why are we always fucking running from the bullets_ , but then he’d decided to change it because it apparently wasn’t polite to swear in front of an audience.

“Enjoying your bloke singing?” Saf asked Zayn, wiggling her perfectly shaped eyebrows.

Zayn shrugged. “Not my bloke”

“Yeah bro, sure thing” Safaa chuckled “So it wasn’t you Harry snogged before going on stage?”

Zayn chuckled. “Fairly sure it was me indeed, sis” he admitted “It’s… more complicated than that”

Safaa rolled her eyes in the Malik© way. “Everything is complicated with you, Zee, because you make it that way most of the time”

“Hey” Zayn pouted.

“It’s true. You’re never gonna enjoy whatever you have with Harry if half of the time you’re obsessing over him being your soulmate and shit”

Zayn’s heart somersaulted in his chest. “How do you even know?”

Saf shrugged. “It _shows_ , Zayn. For being someone who works in that business, you sure don’t know how it works. It’s not about paper heart and songs, not really. It’s far deeper than that”

Zayn felt something stir unpleasantly in his stomach, but forced out a grin. “And when did you become Safaa The White?”

Saf shoved at his shoulder. “Don’t think you can flatter me with _Lord Of The Rings_ references. I mean what I’m saying”

Zayn nodded. “I know, squirrel, I know” he muttered.

_We don’t talk enough_

_We should open up_

_Before it’s all too much_

_Will we ever learn?_

_We’ve been here before_

_It’s just what we know_

“He’s good, isn’t he” Zayn almost whispered, staring at Harry owning the stage with nothing but his voice. He wasn’t even wearing any of his flashy shirts, just a simple black t-shirt, and his hair was in a bun, and still all the attention in the room gravitated around him.

Zayn noticed at least ten different men, in different points of the room, looking at Harry like they wanted to fucking eat him. Harry noticed too, because he smirked down on his mic and lightly swayed his hips.

_We got to get away_

_We got to get away_

_We got to, we got to, away_

Zayn was about to go fucking mental because of Harry Styles and the way he was able to eye-fuck a whole room, but right that moment Harry turned his head and stared back at Zayn, and well, he could eye-fuck a room like no one else, but Zayn and only Zayn was at the end of that particular gaze of his, the gaze that said _fuck me_ and _come hither_ and _you’re allowed to_.

“Oh, boy” Safaa sighed, and Zayn had enough common sense to not reply.

He didn’t stop staring back at Harry, though. And if he was honest with himself, he’d never been able to.

 

*

 

“You make me so fucking jealous” Zayn hissed to Harry’s ear “Always so fucking jealous of all those people staring at you”

Harry smirked, and although Zayn was the one fucking into him at that ridiculously hard and fast pace, he felt like Harry would always be the one in control. “Why? It’s not like we’re together or anything”

Zayn didn’t reply, but grunted and snapped his hips forward, harder. Harry shouted a curse, but Zayn had learned to recognize each and every one of Harry’s moans, and that one meant he liked it.

“You don’t need to… be jealous” Harry gasped, his back glued to Zayn’s chest by a layer of sweat and his hands pressed to the wall in front of them “They… they might look at me, but at the end of the day… you’re the one fucking me into a wall”

Zayn, turned out, didn’t need any more words than those to finally feel the heat boil in the pit of his stomach, and come. He spilled into the condom, and Harry felt it all, as usual, and pushed his own hips backwards to fuck himself on Zayn while he came as well with a cry.

Zayn felt his heart constrict as they stood there, still against the wall, bodies pressed together. “I could love you, you know” Zayn muttered into Harry’s ear, because he’d been swallowing those words for weeks, and he was tired of doing that.

He heard Harry’s chuckle. “I could love you too, Zayn” he replied.

Zayn found out he wasn’t scared at what they’d both just admitted, so he did the only thing he knew how to do. He gently pulled out of Harry, grabbed his shoulders, and made him turn so he could kiss him. Once they were thoroughly satisfied of licking into each other’s mouth, Zayn smiled on Harry’s lips and started to pull him towards the bedroom. “Sleep” he stated “You’re tired”

Harry chuckled again, and nodded, entwining his fingers to Zayn’s as they tried to wear their briefs again without stopping holding hands. They laughed like two teenagers in love the whole time, but Zayn didn’t find it in his heart to be annoyed at how cliché he’d become.

The slid into Harry’s bed, and Harry immediately rolled to Zayn’s side so he could rest his head on his chest. “Can I tell you something?”

Zayn nodded and hummed.

“You’re my soulmate, Zayn” Harry said in a tiny voice, and Zayn’s world shattered on the spot.

He felt bile rise in his throat as he sat up as fast as he could, sending Harry’s head flying, and honestly, not caring. “What?” he hissed.

Harry’s eyes were huge in his face as he sat up too, wringing his hands and avoiding Zayn’s angry gaze. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I lied to you. But you are”

“What the fuck, Harry? Why the fuck would you say something like this?” Zayn shouted, standing up because he couldn’t deal with this, he needed to put some distance between them, otherwise he would crumble at Harry’s mortified expression and just say _fuck it_ and hold him, and he couldn’t. Not anymore.

Harry nodded, but didn’t reply.

“I can’t be, Harry” Zayn said patiently “You said you’re a paper hearts bloke. There were no hearts when we first met”

Harry shook his head. “But there were, Zayn. When… when we first saw each other at the club that night, in my dressing room. It wasn’t the first time we met. We made eye contact before that, the same night, when I was about to come out the backstage door. But as soon as we did, the hearts started popping around my head, and I closed the door as fast as I could because I didn’t want to meet you _like that_ ”

Zayn’s heart lurched painfully in his chest as he remembered going to the loo after Harry had weirdly closed the door. He’d found paper hearts on the floor, crumbled and stomped on, blue, yellow and red. He’d dismissed them so quickly. And all along, they’d been Harry’s. _His_ Harry, with his colourful soul, so it only made sense his hearts were so multicolour as well.

“They were yellow, blue and red” Zayn murmured.

Harry nodded, standing up and trying to get closer to Zayn. “It doesn’t mean anything, Zayn, yeah? You said it. Fuck the soulmate business. I don’t care”

“Oh, but I do, Harry” Zayn replied, as coldly as he fucking could, because his heart was breaking in a million fucking pieces, and he suddenly knew what those poor paper hearts had felt as people trampled on them without a single care in the world.

Harry stared at him, tears in his beautiful green eyes, and didn’t speak.

“I do care, Harry, because you _lied_ to me, for months. You started lying to me the very fucking day you opened your eyes again, and you never stopped”

“What was I supposed to do, Zayn?” Harry shouted “I _knew_ , don’t you get it? I knew how you felt about soulmates! Niall told me a hundred times, how hell-bent his co-worker was on saying this is a bunch of bullshit! I knew how you felt about this _before even meeting you_! So when I saw you, and I got the hearts, I did the only thing I could do, and I hid it, and I lied to you, because if I told you the truth there was _no way in hell_ you would have stayed, and I wanted you to!”

Zayn stumbled backwards at Harry’s desperate plea, because Harry rarely shouted, rarely got upset, and yet there they were, screaming at each other. “You lied to me” Zayn repeated, dumbly.

Harry shook his head. “Don’t you understand, Zayn? I might have lied to you about you being my soulmate, but the rest was just plain me, always, always. Please, Zayn, believe me”

“I can’t” Zayn said, the words cutting his throat like glass as soon as they came out “I can’t, Harry, because all this time I thought you were with me because you _chose me_ , but instead you just _settled for me_ ”

Harry stopped being sad and upset right that moment, and he raised his chin to look at Zayn in the eyes with an anger Zayn had never, ever seen on his beautiful face. “You’re so fucking stupid, Zayn. You’re my soulmate, yeah, and I fucking _chose you_ anyway. And don’t act so fucking high and mighty about this anyway, because whatever you’re accusing me of, it also goes the other way round. You knew I was your soulmate, and you decided to be with me anyway. So tell me, Zayn, why is it that if it’s you, you _chose me_ , but when it’s me, I _settled for you_?”

Zayn opened his mouth, but found out he didn’t know what to say, because Harry was _right_. Everyone had been right all along except Zayn, because it was true that the universe paired up people, but it was also true it took a conscious decision to make it work for real.

Zayn took a deep breath and got closer to Harry, but Harry shook his head and took a step backwards. “Get out of my house, Zayn”

“What? Harry, babe, wait, I…”

“Get out, Zayn” Harry repeated, tears streaking his cheeks “You need to get out, because I’ve had enough of people taking my love for granted, taking taking taking, and then thinking they can just do as they please with whatever remains of my fucking heart” he cried “You have proven yourself to be no different. So I guess you were right in the end. Soulmates don’t mean shit, ‘cause you’re mine, and yet we’ll never be together. Get out”

Zayn did get out. He wore his clothes as quick as he could, without looking at Harry, because he was afraid if he did, his heart would bleed out all over Harry’s precious carpets. So he got dressed and stumbled out of Harry’s house like someone had shot him. Which, in all fairness, felt like the fucking truth.

 

*

 

Zayn had thought he wanted to be alone and die, but he found out he couldn’t bear the silence in his place, because it was _real_ silence, no Harry strolling around the flat with his lanky body on display, and certainly no Harry singing any unfinished song in his head.

So he barely took a glance around the living room, and when his eyes landed on one of Harry’s guitars propped against a wall where he’d left it the day before, Zayn frantically shook his head like a mad man and ran out of the apartment, climbing the stairs to Louis and Liam’s, and knocking on their door without even thinking about how late in the night it was.

“What the fuck…” Louis muttered opening the door with a sleepy face, but his eyes were suddenly more vigilant when he caught sight of Zayn “Zed?”

“Lou” he just breathed, and then started crying.

“Ah, fucking hell, come here” Louis sighed, pulling Zayn inside the house and hugging him, closing the door with his foot without letting him go.

Zayn heard Liam join them in the corridor, but he couldn’t, didn’t want to, raise his eyes from were he’d pressed them in Louis’s neck.

Still in that position, Zayn started speaking, quickly rambling about what had happened, and he didn’t worry about how crazy he sounded, because he knew Louis understood him, always had.

He cried some more when he was done, and Louis didn’t let him go, but he sighed against Zayn’s head. “I told you I didn’t want you to end up hurt, Zed” he muttered “But now you did, and Harry got hurt as well in the process”

“I didn’t wanna hurt him, Lou, I swear” Zayn whimpered “I… I love him”

Louis chuckled. “If you think this is big news, you’ve no idea how wrong you are, babe”

Zayn raised his head to look at Louis. “What?”

Liam got closer to them and gently patted Zayn on the shoulder. “We all got that from day one, Zayn. Come on, you can be stubborn, but you’re not stupid”

 

*

 

When Niall got to work the next morning, Zayn realized he didn’t know how to look at him in the eyes, so he didn’t.

He heard him sigh and shut up for a couple seconds before he spoke. “Will you ever look at me, Zed?”

Zayn did, because he’d never been able to deny Niall anything, no matter how bad he felt. He was surprised to find Niall smiling at him, because he knew he didn’t deserve it. “How are you doing?” Niall asked him.

Zayn scoffed pathetically. “How’s _he_ doing?”

“Like shit” Niall said bluntly.

Zayn nodded. “Same here” he said, and slowly moved to pick up Harry’s guitar, handing it to Niall with a smile that felt more like a grimace “He… he forgot this at my place. Can you, like, give it back to him?”

“You two are the daftest fucking people I’ve ever met, I swear” Niall commented upon taking the guitar from Zayn’s hands, carefully setting it by the wall behind his booth.

Zayn shook his head. “No, Harry’s good. I’m the daft one, I guess”

Niall arched his eyebrows at him. “He really played a number on ya, didn’t he”

Zayn didn’t reply. There was no need to.

Niall stared at Zayn for a minute before speaking again. “Haz ever tell you why he always talks about New York in his songs?”

Zayn’s attention perked a bit at that. “No”

Niall nodded. “I’m not gonna tell you either, Zed. But… Harry got his heart broken in a million pieces because of the soulmate business once before you even came into the picture. So the things you told him last night did nothing but reopen the wounds”

Zayn had never had his heart broken, was the thing. But now that he knew just how much it fucking hurt, he felt even more sorry for Harry going through that twice. And for being the reason it happened that second time. “He told you what happened?” he asked, feeling stupid.

Niall just nodded. “I didn’t come home to his usual rainbows and sunshine, so” he carefully said.

Zayn opened his mouth to reply, although he didn’t know what he wanted to ask. Is he gonna be okay? Is it really over? Will he _please_ stop singing in the middle of a song so I can hear his voice in my head at least?

He didn’t speak, though, because right that moment the door opened and a customer made his way to them, a tentative smile on his lips.

“Welcome to _Find Your Soulmate_ ” Niall said, suddenly more cheerful, although his smile looked a bit fake “How can we help you?”

Zayn turned his attention to his computer when the customer went straight to Niall for help.

_Good, ‘cause I don’t even know how to help myself, so I highly doubt I can help you find your fucking soulmate, mate._

 

*

 

Zayn got out of the car and inhaled the cold Bradford air, already smelling his mother’s Christmas cookies before even stepping into the pathway to their house.

It had been months since he last visited them at their place. It wasn’t that Zayn lived that far away from Bradford, honestly; it was just a twenty minutes drive. But he’d come to loathe the tiny town so much that after he moved, his family didn’t even blame him when he didn’t visit. They understood how eager Zayn was to live in an actual city, with _things_ to do, and they always gladly visited him instead, his sisters clearly loving to get out of Bradford just as much.

If there was a time when Zayn didn’t hate coming back to Bradford so much, though, it was Christmas break. Which was why he’d finally set foot in his hometown again, after having gotten a fair share of hugs from Louis and Liam, returned with a promise to “be good and don’t sulk too much in your mommy’s kitchen”.

As he got to the door and knocked, he briefly wondered if Harry would like Bradford. Zayn hated the shit out of the town, but he was fairly sure Harry would like the quiet and the parks and the general grungy look of it, because Harry was just _that_ weird. He cursed himself and shook his head to get rid of the thought.

Trisha and Yaser opened the door and pulled him in a hug before he could even open his mouth, cooing over him as if they hadn’t seen him barely two weeks earlier.

“Must be a blessing, being the only male child” he heard Waliyha’s sarcastic voice from behind them, and when his parents let him go, he grinned at her, and hugged her too.

 

*

 

“Care to tell me what’s wrong with you, sunshine?” Trisha asked him on Christmas morning, as his sisters fussed to start opening their presents while Yaser watched them fondly, probably happy that his girls were all grown up, but still giggling excitedly over his gifts.

Zayn’s family was Muslim, so they didn’t really celebrate Christmas, but Yaser had always had problems denying his children anything, so he didn’t mind the presents at all.

Zayn sighed, looking at his mother. “Why do you think something’s wrong with me?”

Trisha, the very Maker Of The Malik Eyeroll, rolled her eyes. “You’ve been sulking since you came here, you look expectantly at your phone every three minutes, and you decided to stay over _the whole Christmas break_ ” she counted on her fingers.

Zayn sighed again. “I don’t sulk” he just said.

Trisha chuckled. “You _invented_ sulking, sunshine” she retorted, and Zayn heard his father snort.

He rolled his eyes at him, and Yaser shrugged. “Your mother’s always right, beta, you know that”

Trisha giggled, and a moment later, red paper hearts popped around her head in an explosion that startled both his parents. They looked at each other and laughed embarrassedly.

Zayn rolled his eyes some more. “Yeah, this is exactly what’s wrong with me” he muttered, and joined his sisters by the presents to avoid any further conversation.

Safaa lightly elbowed him when he sat down next to her on the carpet. “How’s he doing?”

“Who?” Zayn asked nonchalantly while Doni and Wali eyed him.

Saf arched an eyebrow. “Niall” she said, sarcastically.

“Oh, Niall’s doing great” Zayn replied.

“You’re a twat” Wali pointed out “Do we need to spell it for you?”

“What do you even know?” Zayn murmured.

Doniya gave him an Eyeroll as well. “Zayn, even if you don’t tell us shit unless we threaten you at gunpoint, YouTube talks enough in your stead. You know there’s a shitton of videos of you and Harry Styles snogging before _and_ after his gigs, right?”

Zayn did, in fact, know, because most of the incriminated videos had been taken and uploaded by the people who called themselves His Best Friends.

“Don’t you worry, big sis” he told Doniya, looking at his hands “There’s not gonna be any more of those videos”

None of them replied at that, but Safaa elbowed him again and handed him another present to unwrap. He smiled weakly but sincerely, and ripped the paper.

They were playing with a new set of Scrabble Zayn had gotten from one of his thousands of aunts, and Zayn was resolutely trying not to think about how Harry would love it, when his phone buzzed with a text from Louis.

_How’s it going over there? We miss ya._

He smiled. _All good. We’re playing Scrabble. What you guys up to? Miss ya too._

Louis sent him a picture of Liam and Niall fighting over the remote control, on the couch, and Zayn saw a number of dirty dishes on the coffee table. They were in _his_ place, but Zayn didn’t even mind, because he and Louis really had stopped having private property the very day they’d fucking met. And he did have a better tv and better games than them, so he didn’t blame them.

What Zayn saw in the picture at a closer inspection, though, made his heart painfully thump in his chest. Right in a corner, Harry’s golden boots shone like a fucking beacon to Zayn, and he was fairly sure Harry hadn’t just forgotten them at his place, because they were literally golden, and so, very noticeable.

 _Harry there?_ , he asked Louis, because he was a masochist.

Louis typed and deleted for a while. _No_ , was all he sent.

Zayn scoffed. _You suddenly develop a taste in horrible boots, then?_

_Maybe they’re Liam’s._

_Lou._

Louis’s reply came in quickly. _Okay, okay. Yeah, he’s here. We invited him too ‘cause his family’s abroad for Christmas, same as ours, and he’s fucking miserable._

 _I don’t appreciate you inviting people in my house_ , Zayn texted back.

_Oh, please, Zayn. Harry’s not ‘people’ and you know._

Yeah, I fucking do know, he thought, but didn’t say. He just sent Louis a thumbs up emoji, and put his phone away even when it buzzed with another reply. He didn’t look at his phone again until it was late at night and he settled in bed.

 _He’s got this gig tonight, he said he’s got a new song_ , Louis had texted him.

Zayn sighed, and put his phone away again.

His sleep was even more fitful than usual, his dreams filled with Harry being in Zayn’s house, but he still couldn’t reach him.

 

*

 

“So his name’s Harry, right?” Trisha asked Zayn while he was helping her do the dishes the next day.

Zayn’s stomach flipped. “Huh?”

Trisha just smiled. “Harry. Styles, I believe?”

“What?” Zayn grunted, turning to glare at Safaa, who raised her hands in surrender.

“Don’t blame your sister, sunshine” his mother said “I asked. Repeatedly. You know none of you can keep things from me”

Zayn sighed. “He’s no one”

“So he’s not your soulmate?”

“I didn’t tell her _that_!” Safaa screamed outraged.

Trisha chuckled. “Didn’t have to, baby. I knew. I’ve known for months now”

“How” Zay just sighed, dismayed.

His mother shrugged. “It shows, sunshine. I don’t need paper hearts or songs to tell my boy is in love, you know. What kind of mother would I be, if I didn’t just know?”

Zayn suddenly felt very tired, his head painfully empty of Harry’s voice. He thought about those first three weeks, the weeks in which he’d hated Harry’s voice with a passion, and thought he was fucking ridiculous, because all he wanted now was for Harry to just _be_ in his head again.

He didn’t answer, and his mother didn’t press him further. “It’ll all work out, sunshine” she just said.

“Zayn?” Safaa called him after a while, in a sheepish tone she rarely used.

He smiled. “It’s fine, squirrel. It’s not like I could have kept it from mom anyway”

She shook her head. “It’s not that. Zayn, can I, like, talk to you? In private?”

There was hardly any privacy in their home, but Zayn frowned at Safaa’s worried little face, so he followed her to her room without questioning. When they got there, she closed her door and sat on her bed, taking her laptop from the nightstand and setting it on her thighs, patting the bed for Zayn to join her.

“What’s wrong with you, babe?” he asked her, gently patting one of her shoulders.

She sighed. “I know you don’t wanna talk about him, and I really don’t wanna make you, but… Zayn, he played his new song last night. And I really think you should listen to it”

Zayn’s jaw tightened. “I don’t want to talk about him, you’re right”

She nodded frantically. “I know. I know, and I’m sorry, Zayn, but I really can’t take this anymore. You’re so… _sad_. I hate it” she said, and tears immediately formed in her eyes.

And well, Zayn was weak to a lot of things, but his greatest weakness was a crying Safaa. “Why do you think I should listen to it?” he carefully asked.

“Because it’s about you” she said, surely.

Zayn’s heart did something weird in his chest. “How’re you so sure of it?”

She shrugged. “You remember when I told you that it just _showed_ , that Harry was your soulmate? Well, bro, the thing is, it also _shows_ the other way round” she said.

Zayn just sighed, but didn’t stop her when she looked for something on YouTube. Safaa loaded the video, and then handed her laptop to Zayn and stood up. “I love you, bro” she whispered, kissing his head, and left him alone with the video.

Zayn really didn’t want to listen to it, except he fucking wanted to, because it had been weeks since he’d last heard Harry’s voice, and now that he had it so close, he couldn’t help it.

So he clicked on the ‘play’ button, and watched.

_Sweet creature_

_Had another talk about where it’s going wrong_

_But we’re still young_

_We don’t know where we’re going_

_But we know where we belong_

_And oh, we started_

_Two hearts in one home_

_It’s hard when we argue_

_We’re both stubborn_

_I know, but oh_

“Go fuck yourself, Harry Styles” Zayn muttered, angrily wiping at his eyes because yes, that song was about him, and yes, he was fucking crying about it. Because he missed that voice, that stupid fucking flamingo shirt, those awful golden boots and those long legs that were able to get tangled in every fucking piece of furniture Zayn owned.

_Sweet creature_

_We’re running through the garden_

_Oh, where nothing bothered us_

_But we’re still young_

_I always think about you and how we don’t speak enough_

No, they never spoke enough, because every time Zayn sucked it up enough to actually try and prod into Harry’s mind a little bit, Harry was always quick to kiss him senseless and drive his big hands up Zayn’s back, shutting him up until further notice.

But honestly, could Zayn even blame him? It had taken Zayn months to just be able to accept Harry had become a necessary presence in his life, and even after that, Zayn had always turned his head the other way whenever Harry had tried to mention the soulmate business.

Harry had lied to Zayn about it, but if Zayn was honest, it had been his own fault, because he was fucking stubborn, and had been too stupid to see that the thing he most despised was also the only thing he’d cared about. He’d cared about paper hearts and songs, and never stopped to care about what was _real_. Harry, in his arms, telling him that he could love him too.

_When I run out of road, you bring me home_

_You bring me home_

Zayn let out a teary chuckle when the song was over and the video stopped, and before he actually realized what the fuck he was doing, he was running down the stairs and grabbing his jacket, wallet and car keys.

Trisha frowned at him. “Zayn?”

“I need to go, mom, I’m sorry, I need to…”

Trisha scoffed. “Oh, just go. I was getting tired of looking at your beautiful face anyway”

Zayn laughed and kissed her on her forehead. Safaa stood behind him, an uncertain expression on her face, and he smiled at her, pulling her for a hug. “Thanks, squirrel. I love you”

Safaa laughed. “Go” she whispered.

And Zayn, to his credit, went.

 

*

 

By the time Zayn finally reached Harry’s place, he was angry.

Well, not really angry, but extremely pissed at Harry and how he’d refused to let Zayn stay and talk about it, but then had decided it was a good idea to write a song about him.

He then realized, as he climbed the stairs three at a time, that he didn’t even know if Harry was home. Maybe he wasn’t. Or maybe he was, but Niall was also at home, and Zayn really didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of him as well.

“Oh, fuck it” he told himself, and started banging on the door, the door against which he’d fucked Harry more than once, because they couldn’t even make it past the hallway on certain nights.

“Niall I swear to God one day you’ll forget your fucking keys and I’m gonna be away and…” Harry blabbered upon opening the door, and froze when he saw it wasn’t, in fact, Niall.

His green, green eyes widened, but just for a second, and then he schooled his features in a frown. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

And Zayn exploded. “What the fuck is _wrong_ with you?” he shouted, inviting himself in and closing the door.

Harry stepped backwards, his eyes flashing angrily. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah!” Zayn barrelled on “What’s wrong with you, Harry? You kick me out of your house, you stop replying to me, you vanish into fucking thin air, you don’t even have the _decency_ of stopping in the middle of a song so that I can hear your voice at least, and then you go and fucking write a song about me?”

Harry crossed his arms over his chest, but Zayn didn’t look, because he knew how weak he was to Harry’s biceps. Not that he was any less weak to his eyes, but he could pretend they were safer territory.

“It wasn’t about you” Harry said, but his voice faltered.

“Oh, wasn’t it? Because it fucking sounded like it was, Harry!”

Harry grinned without any glee. “Bit pretentious of you, innit?”

“You made me that way, babe” Zayn replied, lowering his voice.

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but Zayn got closer to him and raised a finger. “No, you shut up now. You had your chance to speak, and you fucking did, that last night, and you tore my fucking heart out, so now you _listen_ , Harry Styles” Zayn took a breath “You’re right. I accused you of settling for me, and I did just the same. Except neither of us really did, didn’t we? I know now, Harry. You’re my soulmate, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t _choose you_ by my own sound mind. If my mind can ever be sound when you’re around, that is. But I did. I _chose you_. And I know you chose me too, I was just too fucking stubborn and scared to realize it, and when I did, it was too late”

Harry took in a shaky breath. “Scared?”

Zayn laughed. “Yeah, Harry, you scare the shit out of me. Because you make me… you make me too happy, too giggly, too everything that I never was. I thought I was losing my fucking mind over you when you were in that coma, but guess what. That was nothing, _nothing_ , compared to how I lost my mind over you when you were right next to me” he blurted out “And it scared me. But it doesn’t anymore. I love you, Harry. And I don’t love you because the universe decided. I love you because I chose you, and I’ll choose you until the day I die, which admittedly will be right the fuck now if you don’t kiss me in the next three seconds”

And Harry, to his credit, didn’t really want Zayn to die, so he did as Zayn asked.

 

*

 

“I was in New York when I met Ben”

Harry’s voice disrupted the silence of his bedroom a while later, as they both lay under the covers. Zayn had been shamelessly enjoying having Harry’s cheek on his chest again, and was playing with his curls between his fingers, because despite how tired they were from having had sex four times in a row, neither of them looked like they wanted to finally sleep.

“You don’t have to tell me, babe” Zayn whispered, and it was sincere. He was so happy, and Harry looked so happy as well, that he didn’t wanna pop their bubble with the tale of something that was bound to be one of Harry’s worst moments in life, if the tiny bit Niall had told Zayn was anything to go by.

Harry chuckled and briefly kissed Zayn’s chest. “Too late. You’re gonna listen now”

“Whatever you feel like doing, babe” Zayn conceded.

Harry sighed. “I’d been to New York on vacation, and I met this fit, older guy at a pub. Turned out he was a producer at a record label, and I was singing that night, and he noticed me. I noticed him too. There were no hearts in the air, and no songs in our heads, but he was there, and I liked him, and he liked me. I stayed in New York with him for two years. It was glorious. He helped me produce my own songs, got me gigs, even had me record a couple of tunes with his label, although apparently they weren’t that good, because I never managed to make it big. I didn’t care, though, because all I cared was that I loved Ben, and Ben loved me. Fuck the soulmate business, he always said” Harry chuckled bitterly.

Zayn winced at the words he’d also spoken to Harry a lifetime ago, but didn’t interrupt him.

“It was glorious, as I said” Harry resumed his tale “Until the day we went out to get breakfast, and we ran into a lovely woman. Lovely hair, lovely voice, lovely fucking everything. Lovely hearts popped around her head, and Ben’s”

“Harry…”

Harry shook his head. “I didn’t even think anything of it. I didn’t think it mattered, because what I had with him was more than paper hearts, right? So when he asked me to head home, to let him ‘talk this through with her’, I just shrugged and obeyed. I thought something of it only when Ben didn’t come home. Only when he then texted me, telling me to please go to my own place, because we were done, and he’d found something ‘more worth it’. His words”

“What the fuck?” Zayn wasn’t able to restrain himself, and held Harry harder against his side.

Harry nodded. “Yeah. Broke my fucking heart, and my wallet for that matter, ‘cause I’d stopped paying rent when I started spending all my time at Ben’s, so I didn’t have a house anymore. I looked for a new one, but ended up staying in a hostel. Until I realized there was nothing for me in New York anymore. I booked a flight home. Before leaving, I went to Ben’s office, because I’d never seen him again after that day, and I wanted closure. He couldn’t even give me that, because he saw me, and turned his face the other way. So I left”

“Fucking hell” Zayn breathed.

“Niall helped. When I came back, he took me in. Mended my stupid, broken heart. I got better, I started writing and singing again. I healed. But the scars stayed, Zayn, and I doubt they’ll ever go away completely. So see, now you understand why I freaked out when I finally met my soulmate. I couldn’t rely on that alone, because if what I’d thought was _real_ didn’t work, how could something only based on paper hearts work? So I hid it”

Zayn nodded, and kissed Harry for a long time before replying. “Your heart’s not stupid, babe. Your heart is the most _real_ and wonderful thing I’ve ever seen”

Harry chuckled. “You ain’t ever seen my heart, babe, it’s like, inside my ribcage”

Zayn smiled, and was happy they were alone, because what he was about to say would have had Louis gag in a matter of seconds. He stroked a finger over Harry’s eyelids. “I can see it right here, babe”

 

*

 

The next morning, when Zayn woke up to a still sleeping Harry, which was rare in itself, it hit him.

It hit him just how much he loved Harry, because he was colourful and cheery where Zayn was dark and broody, because yes, he’d fucking chosen him, and yes, he would do it all over again, every day, as long as he lived.

And then, Zayn had a heart attack. A legit, painful heart attack as he heard a loud _bang_ and paper hearts exploded all around his head. Yellow, red and blue paper hearts.

Harry jolted up with a scream, and took a brief glance at Zayn and the mess of hearts around him, before he started laughing. Hard.

Zayn punched him in the arm. “Shut the fuck up”

Harry only laughed harder.

 

*

 

“It’s only fitting that he hates the soulmate business so much, and he’s one of the rare cases in which someone experiences _both_ methods, innit?” Louis commented cheerfully, looking at Harry.

Harry was busy gluing Zayn’s hearts to the first page of his new song lyrics notebook, but he looked up at Louis, and grinned. “I think he was so stubborn that the universe just decided to make _extremely_ sure Zayn got the message that I’m his soulmate”

“Shut up, both of you. I’m right here” Zayn grumbled.

Liam laughed. “Come on, Zed. It’s cute, isn’t it?”

“No” Zayn replied.

Harry pouted at him, and Zayn couldn’t hold back his smile, because Harry was really fucking cute when he pouted.

 _No no no_ , he barely had time to think, before a new paper hearts explosion generated around his head, covering him in yellow, blue and red.

Louis laughed hard, immediately followed by Liam and even Niall, who just laughed the hardest.

Harry just smiled, and reached Zayn on the couch, kissing him. “Very cute indeed” he murmured on Zayn’s lips.

And sure enough, Harry’s own hearts popped out.

Zayn secretly thought that even if that was how his days were gonna go from then on, he didn’t actually mind at all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stumbled upon this prompt on the internet ages ago, and started writing this story as an original about three years ago. I found it again last week, and by the time I was on page four, the main characters had morphed into Zayn and Harry. I didn't do it on purpose, I swear!  
> As usual, I really appreciate comments and kudos, I love to know what people think about my works.  
> I fell into the Zarry hole, I guess, so hit me with prompts and I'll give you my stories, 'cause they're the only thing I know how to do.  
> You'll also find me on tumblr at wont-you-stay-till-the-am.tumblr.com.  
> Till next time!


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